


The Closer You Get

by stonegirl77



Category: Now You See Me (Movies)
Genre: Close to Canon, Coming of Age, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Magic, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 28,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonegirl77/pseuds/stonegirl77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane Reeves has always stood in the shadows.</p><p>Her sister's shadow.<br/>The shadow of her control booth during a show.</p><p>Jane gets an invitation to the Eye at the same time as Henley. Too bad being part of the Eye means she has to deal with J. Daniel Atlas again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who hasn't seen the movies and you're reading this, hurray!! 
> 
> The first chapter will be a quick character guide, so you know who is who (although I hope you can get it from the work anyway), and if something doesn't make sense, let me know in comments! I'm trying to make this so anyone, regardless of whether or not you've seen the films, can read this and understand it.
> 
> Also, this (for once) follows canon quite closely. Huh.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Cast Of Characters:

The Four Horsemen:

J. Daniel Atlas: illusionist. Smartass. Cleverest guy in the room, and he doesn't care who knows it. Has ridiculously shaggy hair in the first movie. Played by Jesse Eisenberg.

Henley Reeves: escape artist. The 'token girl' of the movie, she used to be Atlas' assistant, until they had a falling out. Played by Isla Fisher.

Merritt McKinney: mentalist. Hypnotist, outrageous and eccentric. Was famous, got swindled by his brother, and before the events of NYSM, worked riverboat cruises near New Orleans. Played by Woody Harrelson.

Jack Wilder: card sharp. Can do anything with cards, including cut people. (it's pretty cool) The youngest of the four, feels like he has something to prove. Played by Dave Franco.

 

The Star, aka our Heroine:  
Jane Reeves: trick-master. A role I created out of whole cloth, she helps to come up with the tricks, and then runs the show. Stage manages, deals with transport, the whole shebang. It made sense to me that an outfit as complex as the Horsemen would have one, but, heck, what do I know? Played by - whoever you want, except that Jane has red hair like Henley's.

The Bad Guys:

Thaddeus Bradley: ex-magician, current star of a show that exposes magician's tricks. Played by Morgan Freeman.

Agent Dylan Rhodes: FBI agent who doesn't like magic. Ornery, but smart. Played by everyone's favourite Hulk, Mark Ruffalo.

Alma Dray: Interpol agent assigned to the Horsemen case (because the Horsemen rob a bank in Paris.) Played by Mélanie Laurent.

Arthur Tressler: businessman, insurance company owner. Nasty character. Played by Michael Caine. 

 

And, a brief synopsis of the movie: To get into the Eye, which is a secret organisation of the best magicians in the world, the Four Horsemen (and Jane), have to complete a series of shows, as specified by the Eye. The FBI get involved when the Horsemen 'steal' 3.2 million Euro from a bank in Paris. Hijinks ensue. 

I hope that helps, and on with the show!


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time J. Daniel Atlas, Henley, and Jane meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a few (ok, more than a few) chapters in, so I'll be posting Mondays and Thursdays. 
> 
> If anything's unclear, please let me know in the comments (to be fair, some stuff is unclear on purpose), and I hope you like it!!

CHICAGO.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009.

 

I still remember the first time I saw J. Daniel Atlas.

He was doing a show, and my sister Henley and I were in the audience, watching.

 _“Come in close. Closer. Because the more you think you see, the easier it’ll be to fool you.”_ I was a row or two people back, in the crowd of people staring at him. Watching him intently. Looking, of course, in the wrong place.

_“Because what is seeing?”_

_“You’re looking, but what you’re really doing is interpreting, filtering.”_

He was getting ready to pull off his trick. I could tell in the way his cards shuffled that little bit faster, the way his movements grew that little bit more urgent - seeking the high, the thrill.

_“Searching for meaning.”_

_“My job?”_

_“To take that most precious of gifts you give me - your attention - and use it against you.”_

 

 

 

“You seemed to know where to look.” I jumped, nearly spilling my cup of coffee over the guy who had spoken in my ear.

It was him. J. Daniel Atlas. Barely out of his teens, but in every magic blog and website I trawled. He was going to be one of the greats. And he had the looks to match, the shaggy hair, the twinkle in his eye, the mischievous grin. And he was talking to me. “I try,” I said, hedging.

“So, what did you think?” I had been leaning on the edge of the bridge, leaning over the river, waiting for Henley. Now he leaned back on the ledge, tipping his head back. I stared, for a minute, at the line of his throat, at his messy hair almost across his eyes, then shook myself. _Get a grip, Janey There’s no way he’d look at you that way. Besides, from what you’ve heard, he’s kind of an asshole._

“Pretty good,” I demurred, looking down at my coffee cup. It seemed like a neutral place.

“Oh?” I glanced over. His eyebrows were raised, almost mocking.

I considered what to say - we were here to meet with him, after all, even if he didn’t know it. Best to be abrupt. Matter of fact. “Your sleight of hand is pretty good,” I said. “It gets sloppy when you get excited, though. I caught a couple of your palms, and I wasn’t that close.” He was standing upright now, looking at me more intently. “And I think your finale could use a little work. I mean, sure, the correct colour and number of roses is cool and all, but I think you could go bigger. And you wouldn’t have to make them choose a heart.”

I paused. I could have gone on, but decided that was enough to be going on with.

“You’re Henley Reeves.” _Everyone always thinks I’m Henley._

I shook my head. “Nope. Henley’s my sister. I’m Jane. Jane Reeves.” I stuck out my hand.

“Jane?” Henley’s voice stopped Atlas’ hand on its way to mine. He turned his head, glancing over at Henley, then catching as he spotted her. _See, Jane. That’s the kind of woman men go for. Henley. 5’2” of curvy sass, legs, and boobs. She’s gorgeous. And she’s not a teenager. Of course he likes her._

“You must be Henley.” He did a little half-bow. “And as stunning as your reputation suggests.”

“J. Daniel Atlas,” Henley said, extending her hand and letting him brush a kiss to her knuckles. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I heard you wanted to talk?”

“Jane and I were thinking…” Atlas turned, still holding Henley’s hand. “Every magician needs an assistant.”

“And a trick-master,” I completed, smiling at Henley as genuinely as I could.

“You.” Atlas had let go of Henley’s hand. Finally. “Trick-master? You run her show? You design the tricks?” He was judging. I could tell. It was the usual. _‘You barely look old enough to drive, let alone come up with a magic trick, little girl.’_

“Try me, Atlas,” I shot back. _I’ll show you._

“Fine.” He rolled back onto his heels. “What would you suggest, then. As my closer…”

I sneaked a look at Henley, who was looking back with a satisfied grin on her face. _We were in._


	3. The Tarot Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henley and Jane both receive cards from the Eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I couldn't resist. Have another chapter!
> 
> As always if something doesn't make sense, let me know, and let me know what you think in the comments below!

[Four years later]

LOS ANGELES. Thursday, March 28, 2013.

The Star.

One of the major arcana of the tarot. Death. Or Hope.

“Why the hell is Death lying on my laptop?” I leaned back in my office chair, twirling the card between thumb and forefinger, thinking.

“Jane!” I jerked upright, standing and stashing the card in the back pocket of my jeans. “Jane!” Henley’s voice was getting closer. “Jane!” Her red head popped into the doorway. “Come here, you have to see this!” She came in and practically dragged me from my booth backstage, the one with all the monitors and the controls, and to the open warehouse stage.

“What - Hen - wait - what am I looking at?” I asked, trying not to trip as she kept hold of my hand, practically running along. “How did you get so strong? You’re a shrimp!” Even in her five-inch heels we were barely eye to eye.

“And you’re a giant, little sister,” Henley reminded me, stopping in front of her ‘piranha’ tank where animatronic fish ‘swam’ lazily around, batteries winding down. There, in the middle, was a card. Another tarot card.

“The High Priestess,” Henley said.

“Second trump in the Tarot,” I replied, walking around the glass enclosure as the card spun. “Also known as the Popess until they changed it - non-Roman Catholics got confused, or something - and after the Rider-Waite deck gained popularity-“

“How do you know this stuff?”

“How do you not?” I asked. “It’s interesting.”

“To you, maybe.”

I sighed. Unless it was opening handcuffs, escaping from safes, or protecting me from the devils of dating, Henley didn’t seem to be interested in much. “March 29, 4:44pm, 45 East Evan Street. New York, New York,” I read from the other side of the card. It really was identical to my card, as far as I could tell from here. I’d have to drain the tank to be certain. Which I had to do anyway. Those fish needed new batteries for tomorrow’s show.

“Do you think it’s them?” Henley asked, breaking in on my examination of the card.

“The Eye?”

“Of course!” Henley came and slung an arm around my shoulder, the smell of her damp hair, fresh from the shower, invading my nostrils.

“It’s a possibility,” I hedged. _Of course it’s the Eye. Who else but an order of magicians is going to send both of us matching Tarot cards with instructions on the back?_ “I got one too.”

“What?” I reached into my back pocket and flipped the card out, making it dance on my knuckles out of habit before handing it over.

“The Star,” Henley read. “What does it mean?”

“Usually hope,” I said. _Or death._ But I’d keep that to myself. _No need to worry her with divination meanings, of all things._ “Same writing on the back. Evan Street, New York, New York.” I frowned. “And who says that, anymore? New York, New York. Sounds like a Sinatra song…”

“Sooo…” Henley said, passing my card back.

“Sooo,” I repeated back, grinning at her. I knew what she was going to say.

“So, oh manager of mine - when are we going to New York?!” Henley demanded, grinning and spinning away from me.

“We’re on the red-eye in the morning. I nabbed the last two seats,” I said, grinning back, the excitement beginning to churn in my gut, ten times bigger than at the beginning of a show. _The Eye. We have an invitation to the Eye!_

“And as soon as I drain this damn fishtank.”


	4. The First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Henley arrive in New York to find they aren't the only people the Eye chose...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, new plan because I have enough delayed gratification in my life. I'm posting this once a day until I run out of chapters. 
> 
> Hope y'all like it, and, as always, if something doesn't make sense, let me know!

The baristas were taking forever. “Go - I’ll catch up. It’s only down the block.”

“Down the block, on the corner. Are you sure?” Henley got that wrinkle between her eyebrows, the one that meant she was worried about me.

“I’ll be fine. Even better once I’ve had this coffee.” _Worrywart._

“You know you really should sleep more.”

“Sleep is for the weak. Coffee is for the strong!” I said, my almost-constant refrain making her smile, at least. And I didn’t quite know why she was worried. I’d slept on the plane, so I was mostly caught up from a night packing up the show for us to leave for New York. “Go. Hens, go. I’ll be up in a minute. We’ve got time.”

She nodded. “See you in a minute.”

“Later,” I called, watching her red head disappear.

“Sister?” one of the baristas asked.

“How did you guess?” I asked drily, pushing a lock of my own ginger hair behind my ear from where it had escaped my bun.

“I’m sure I have no idea,” he grinned, handing me my coffee. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” I replied, pushing up from the counter I’d been leaning against and pulling my scarf tighter around my neck. New York was cold in March. At least this March.

 

There were voices above me as I ascended the stairs. Three. Two men, and Henley. And there was something familiar about one of the men’s -

“We were never a couple.” I stopped, staring up the flight of stairs. That was - Daniel Atlas. Why was he here?

“He used to saw me in half.” They weren’t seriously considering letting J. Daniel Atlas into the Eye, were they? _I mean, he’s a good magician. But he doesn’t play well with others._

I rounded the last flight of stairs.

“She was a very good assistant.” He was facing away from me, and I took a second to brace myself. _You do not have a crush on him anymore. Got it? Besides. He’s Henley’s._ I stuck all my random thoughts of Daniel - and how had there come to be this many lying around anyway? - back in the mental box where they belonged and slammed the lid.

“But I was too fat for Danny.” That was Henley. Baiting him. Again. I had no idea why she did that. _I don’t know how this is going to work if we’re all up for spots in the Eye…_

“No. I said that one time.” And Daniel just baited right back. _Clueless. The pair of them._ I started up the steps. “Because of the trap door. There were specs.”

“Which you misread,” I said. “Hi, Daniel.”

“Jane.” Atlas turned, and I could see he’d grown. Broader in the shoulder - he must have had to buy all new show clothes, and he’d grown maybe an inch or two. Our eyes weren’t level any more, even in my heels. _Maybe he’s grown some social skills with the shoulders._ “You too?”

“Yup,” I said, flashing the card, glancing at the other guy. Late thirties to early forties. Bald, probably by design due to incoming baldness. In a fedora. _And who wears a fedora anyway? It screams “I’m an eccentric, or a hipster.” I’m not sure which is worse._

“Merritt McKinney,” he said, extending a hand. “Jane… Reeves?” I nodded.

“A pleasure.” I shook. I’d heard of Merritt before. A mentalist, a good one, ran into hard times, but who was popular down South. Merritt’s eyes narrowed, darting from me to Henley, to Daniel, and back.

“No way.” We turned as one as the foreign voice spoke. “J. Daniel Atlas.” He slid past me to Daniel. “Dude, I’ve seen everything that you have ever done. You’re like… I idolise you. Seriously.” I wanted to snigger at the sarcasm, but he seemed genuine enough. And young. Probably a few years younger than me, and I’d only had my first legal drink in February. He seemed sweet. And naive. Like a puppy.

“From a true fan,” Daniel said, actually being nice for once. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Question. Did you get one of these?” Daniel palmed his card, flashing it and spinning it.

“Yeah,” the kid - Jack - said, producing his own and showing it face-out. He chuckled, a little self-consciously. “Death.”

“The High Priestess,” Henley said, smiling proudly. _As she should be._

“I’m the Lover.” Daniel grinned. Henley coughed into her hand. _I don’t think that card means what you think it means, Daniel._

“Three minutes,” she said, the cough not disguising it. At all. _And the top of the list of things I don’t want to think about goes to…_

“The Star,” I said, hurriedly.

“Hermit,” Merritt said, shooting me a look. I just looked back, concentrating on his card. Hermit… Interesting. “So, are we waiting for someone?” he asked, just as Jack asked “Why are we just-?”

“The door’s locked,” Merritt and Daniel said.

Jack just smirked and pushed past Merritt on his way to the door.

“Oh, no. Nothing’s ever locked.” I had to chuckle as he knelt and slid lock picks into the door, fiddling for a second before turning the handle and giving a push, swinging the door open.


	5. The Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horsemen and Jane enter the apartment

The apartment was disgusting. There was no way around it. It hadn’t been occupied in years, and the previous tenant hadn’t exactly been the model of perfect hygiene.

I’d managed to grab the spot right behind Daniel, who had charged in first, so I could actually see what was going on instead of trying to manoeuvre around everyone else.

“What is this place?” Henley asked behind me, poking her head into the kitchen.

“Oh! Wow. I thought my apartment was nasty,” Merritt commented behind her.

“Man, it’s freezing in here,” I heard Jack say as Daniel and I reached the end of the corridor and stopped at the entrance to the main room.

“No kidding.” I’d already shoved my hands in my pockets, and was grateful for my scarf. Definitely no central heating in here.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” There was a white rose lying on the wooden floor. A vase, half-full with water, and a design, set into the wood and blackened.

And a card.

“What’s it say?” Merritt asked as Daniel bent to pick it up.

“Now you don’t,” he read, passing it to me. All caps, the words were written, not printed. I tucked it into my jacket to examine later. The writing, the type of ink or the type of paper could be useful later.

“A rose by any other name,” Henley began, stooping to pick up the rose and plopping it in the vase before I could stop her. I wanted a chance to see the trick before it began. To examine it. To see how it worked.

“Hens - wait - oh.” The water began to drain from the vase - probably some pressure-plate in the vase, and was spilling out in the direction of the sunken design.

“Woah.”

“Look at that.” As the water hit the black, smoke began to billow from the design.

“It’s gas!” That one was Jack, sounding panicked. I peered closer.

“Relax. It’s just dry ice,” I replied, catching the familiar smell.

“Cool.” Jack flashed me a grin. I grinned back.

“Hang on,” Daniel said, taking a few steps sideways as he studied the illusion. “What do you think this is all about?”

“Hang on,” Merritt said, “Hang on.” And he put his fingers on his temples, Professor X style. We waited. “I got nothin’.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Daniel was in fine fettle this particular afternoon. “Thank you for the delay.”

“I’m just trying to create the space for wisdom,” Merritt said, unmoved. I really hoped we weren’t all supposed to work together. Trying to manage those two would be like trying to make oil and water mix. Requiring lots of agitation and constant maintenance.

“Okay, so you’re like Buddha, if he wasn’t so enlightened.” They were still at it. _For Heaven’s sake. They have the emotional maturity of a pair of 12 year olds._

“And you’re like Jesus, if he was arrogant and all of his miracles were fake.” Finally, I heard something other than nonchalance from Merritt. _Interesting._

“Ok, lovebirds, get a room,” I said, finally having had enough. Both of their heads turned to me, matching expressions of surprise on their faces. _That’s right, boys. We can squabble later._ “Daniel - did you do this?”

“No,” he said, then frowned. “Wait, did you?”

I shook my head. “I wish.” Daniel flashed me a grin.

“Why didn’t anyone ask me if I did it?” Merritt asked. _Because you’re a mentalist, not an illusionist, idiot,_ I thought, but I bit my tongue.

“Oh great.” Henley was standing at the light switch. “Electricity is out.”

“Well, let’s check.” Merritt was standing below a particularly dated chandelier and reached up to tighten on elf the bulbs.

“Whoa.” I had no idea who said it, but it hardly mattered. Suddenly, there were projections in the air above where the design had been. Schematics, maps. Designs. The Eye. Place names.

“Blueprints,” Henley said.

“They’re incredible.” Daniel actually sounded humbled. I didn’t think it would last.

“Who do you think did this?” That was from Jack, standing in a corner. I’d almost forgotten about him. Which was a great skill in a magician. Less so in a possible colleague, though.

“I don’t know,” Henley said, “But I really want to meet them.” _The Eye,_ I said, in my head. _It’s the Eye, people. The Eye did this. Duh. And we probably won’t get to meet them unless we figure out what this -_

“It’s a show,” I said, all the pieces starting to float into place in my head. “One giant show.”

 

 

 


	6. Four Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Jane, Henley, and Daniel met. After Jane fell asleep...

“One last thing,” Henley said.

They’d retreated to Henley and Jane’s hotel room, where Jane had passed out on the couch, head resting lightly on the arm of the sofa, legs in his lap. They’d been talking for hours. About magic. How they got into the business. What they were hoping to do. Jane and he had even hashed out a closer that involved bribing the janitor of a nearby high-rise. This was going to be amazing. In so many more ways than one.

“Yeah?” He was speaking softly, so as to not wake Jane. She looked so peaceful, red hair half-obscuring her face as she slept. Few people had ever trusted him so easily, seen past the defensiveness and the sarcasm - she was practically _sleeping_ on him.

“Nothing happens with Janey.” Daniel’s head shot around to stare at Henley, who was lounging on the bed. “Before you go denying it, I saw the way you were with her. The way she was looking at you. It’s never going to happen.”

Annoyance. Anger. “And why not?” Sure, Henley was more conventionally pretty. But Jane had… something. Something that kept you talking to her. An amazing smile. Beautiful grey eyes. And the same gorgeous red hair as Henley.

“She’s seventeen.” He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. _Seventeen? She has to be older. No one talks like that - with that level of knowledge about magic. Not at that age._

 _You did,_ a little voice in the back of his head snarked. Henley kept talking. “You’re, what, 21?” He nodded, still processing the new information. “That’s a four year age gap. And before you go saying that it’s not much, consider this. You can drink. She can’t, legally. She’s not even a legal adult yet.” Henley grinned. “Not that that means much in this line of work, but she’s more responsible than I was, at her age.” She frowned. “It makes her seem older - to be honest, half the time she’s the one taking care of me, and she’s sure as hell smarter than I am.” She grew more determined. “But I can do this for her. Be her friend, if you have to. But if you take it further - one iota further - then she and I are gone, and I’ll ruin your reputation.” Something must have crossed his face, some shadow of a sneer, because she shook her head at him. “Oh, I’m not sure how, yet, but believe me, the brains didn’t all go to Jane. I have my fair share.”

“I have no doubt,” Daniel sighed, looked down at Jane, at the _seventeen year old_ , the girl he’d been sharing ideas with the entire evening, the one who had fallen asleep while waxing eloquent about Lionel Shrike. The one whose long, long legs were stretched along the couch, whose eyes sparkled as they talked magic.

Then the mask was back on, and he was J. Daniel Atlas once more. “But to allay your fears, you have my word. No shred of anything other than brotherly care.” He didn’t have any time for _romance_ , anyway.

“Isn’t that a bit… Regency? Even for you?”

“Would you rather I say ‘no, Henley, I won’t fuck your sister’?” Atlas asked, anger and annoyance making him cruder than he meant to be. Especially about her.

“No,” she spat.

“I won’t hurt her,” he said, softening as he looked down at Jane again. At her socked feet, resting on his legs. That, at least, was an easy promise to make.

What should it matter anyway? She was just a girl.


	7. The Deal

“I still don’t see how we need all of us to make this show work,” Merritt grumbled as we made our way towards the crates - the crates we’d discovered were stored in the basement of the apartment building. Well, meandered would be a better word. It was taking all I had to not just run straight up to them and start unboxing. The glimpses of the plans in the holograms were already enough to send my brain spinning in thousands of directions at once, and one glance at Daniel told me he was having the same problem.

“The Eye must have their reasons,” I said. Having a mentalist in a multi-magician show opened up possibilities for so many tricks - you could fool someone into having done something they hadn’t, or cause them to act a certain way - surely Merritt could tell that much?

“Yeah?” Merritt said, looking me over again, and I blushed. I couldn’t help it. There was a reason I was backstage for the entire show. I didn’t like people’s eyes on me. It was much more fun being the woman behind the curtain. Especially when that person read people for a living.

“They’re all locked,” Jack said, and I looked over. He’d moved noiselessly to the crates, and sure enough, each of them had a padlock with a red tell-tale on it. I took my card out of my back pocket and spun it between thumb and forefinger, thinking.

“Are you sure that’s your card?” Daniel said.

“What?” I looked at him, perplexed, thoughts scattering.

“The Star. Did they mean to give you that one?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s tarot, Atlas,” I drawled. “The cards don’t mean what you think they mean.”

“So mine?” he asked with a smirk.

“Isn’t because you can get any girl you want,” I snarked back. “No, the Lovers usually means secrets or truths. Sometimes it has to do with an ordeal, although I think that’s unlikely.”

“Huh.” Daniel pulled his own card out of his pocket, tipping it end over end. “So what does yours mean?”

“Hope,” I said.

“I get three meanings, and you only get one?”

“Something like that,” I said. Of course it was a lie. The Star could also mean death or injury. But if I doubted Daniel would have to go through any kind of ordeal, it wasn’t worth worrying anyone over my possible incapacity. Not that anyone outside Henley would care, anyway. “Hang on.” Our cards had started to glow, and I brought mine closer to Daniel’s again. _Same glow. I wonder how that works…_

“If you guys are done flirting?” Merritt said, and I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m gonna pass on this little offer.”

“Wait,” I said, and dropped my card onto Daniel’s. It clicked, almost as if two magnets were pulling them together. “Guys?” Henley was already there, and dropped her card onto the stack as well. Same result.

“Huh.” Jack produced his, dropped it, and the stack began to grow brighter.

Merritt was still looking at the door, though.

I walked over to him, leaving the others staring at the glowing cards in Daniel’s hand. “You know, the Eye doesn’t think we can do this without you,” I said.

“Trying to butter me up, kid?” he said, and it could have been harsh. But it wasn’t.

“Nope,” I said. “Honestly, I figure if one of us is superfluous, it’s probably me. Daniel usually runs his own tricks nowadays anyway, so why they wanted a trick-master is beyond me.”

Merritt just looked at me, and I shifted uncomfortably. “So you think the Eye has a plan,” he said, finally.

“I’m willing to play along to find out,” I said. “And we need you.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” Merritt grinned and passed me his card. “I’m in.”

The others had come over as Merritt and I talked, so I barely had to take two steps before I could drop Merritt’s card on the pile. It glowed even brighter, and then…

The click of locks. I looked up to find all the tell-tales on the crates glowing green.

“See?” I looked at Merritt. “It doesn’t work without all of us.”


	8. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night before the show, and Jane can't sleep, so she's re-checking everything before their first Las Vegas Show.

I rubbed my eyes. _One last check. One last check of everything, then I can go to bed._

I was still jet lagged. Still trying to get myself on Las Vegas time from our week spent in Paris. Paris, where I’d spent my first time in France helping the Horsemen to rob a bank. _Everyone should have that much fun on their first trips to Europe Even if the jet lag blows_. At least I knew I was supposed to be tired, here at the venue at 2am.

“You should be asleep.” I turned, ready to snap at whoever was disturbing me.

“So should you,” I told Daniel, who was leaning against the crate containing the chiffons Henley would be using, and the spares. The chiffon was so thin, every single rip showed and would ruin the trick if I wasn’t careful. Hence the spares.

“We’re ready,” he said. “You’ve checked everything ten times already today. Rehearsal was perfect.”

“One last time.” I grinned at him. “Besides, there must be something wrong if you’re being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice,” he protested, but he was smiling as he said it.

“Keep telling yourself that, Daniel,” I said, checking the comms were in their spots. The comms, the mics, the batteries, and the spares. Seven. Five for us, two spares of everything. Multiple batteries. Check and check.

“Why don’t you call me Dan anymore?”

I turned. _That was not the question I was expecting._ “I do so,” I said.

“Yeah. When you’re too tired to know better, like two nights ago when you were here, punchdrunk, and I dragged you back to the hotel room. Or when Henley got you drunk while we were in Paris, after the bank.” I remembered a very good bottle of red. Or two. And cards. And that was pretty much it until the hangover the next morning.

“So?” I busied my hands - I had to, to stop them fidgeting. So I grabbed one of the electrical cords that had to be wound and started winding, holding up my elbow and winding the cord from palm to elbow. Forward and backwards. _Redirect, Reeves. Redirect._ “Should I not? Should I start calling you Danny, like Henley does?”

“No, I like Dan - that’s not…” Daniel started and stopped, and I slowed my winding. He was never like this around me. Around Henley, sure. But me? Never this lost for words. “When we - when you, Henley, and I - were working together, for that year, you called me Dan all the time. And then you stopped. Why?”

“I grew up?” I offered. It was kind of true. It was also completely and utterly not the full truth. The day I’d started calling him Daniel was the day I saw him kissing Henley backstage. There and then, my crush dissolving into a thousand little pieces, I’d decided if I couldn’t be his love, I’d be his colleague instead. His friend. No use pining over someone who didn’t like me back. I’d decided to crush any finer feelings. Hence Daniel. Not Dan.

Daniel just reached across me and picked up a cord of his own, winding it in the same way as I was doing, watching me the entire time. “So. What do you have left to do?”

I raised my eyebrows at the change of subject, surprised that he had let it go so easily, but went along with it just the same. The longer I could avoid talking about my feelings for one J. Daniel Atlas, the better. “The cords, the lighting rigs,” I said. “And then I want to go over the cue sheets one last time. Then I’ll head to bed.” I’d finished winding the cord and placed it on its hook by the door.

“Ok,” Daniel said. His finished coil went next to mine, and he picked up a new cord, passing me one as well.

“You’re not -“

“Helping you?” Daniel finished. “Yes. I am. We need our trick-master in good shape for tomorrow.” He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual, charming with more than a hint of mischief grin. No, this one was smaller, more gentle, and with no hint of teasing.

“Oh.” I was already winding my cord by habit. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Just don’t mention it to the others,” Daniel said, normal snappishness restored. “Merritt would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Got it,” I said, lips quirking as I gave my own, private, smile.

_Thanks, Dan._


	9. The First Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's showtime...almost

“Janey?” Henley appeared in the corridor underneath the stage, lips red, heels on, in her stage clothes. “We’re ready.”

I grinned at her, my pre-show adrenaline rush in full force. “Wonderful.” And yet Henley kept standing there. “Yeah?”

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my wrist to make me follow.

“Where are we going?” I asked, grumbling out of habit as much as anything else.

“The others,” she said, letting go of my hand and trusting I’d follow her to the dressing room. And, sure enough, there they all were. Merritt in his fedora, an undone bow tie hiding underneath his lapels, Jack in black on black, complete with suspenders - _and if all the girls in the audience don’t have a crush on him by the end of the night, they’re blind_ \- and Daniel. In an tux, a blue-black button-up with the first two buttons undone. _Unless the girls fall for him instead, of course._

“Kiddo!” Merritt said, smiling as he saw me. Jack turned and came over to smack me lightly on the shoulder.

“Thought you were gonna avoid us, huh?” he asked, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

“They think we should do some kind of preshow ‘ritual’,” Daniel said, joining the conversation with his usual lack of social grace.

I was about to reply in kind, but I saw Henley’s face. She was happy. Excited. A glance at Jack showed his puppy-dog eagerness as well, so I shelved my talk about superstition and sighed. “So. What do we do?”

“Come here,” Henley said, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close, grabbing Merritt with her other arm. “Come on, group hug.”

And this was wrong, _wrong_ , because Daniel was on my other side, and his hand slid around my waist with ease, as my arm went around his back, and maybe my crush wasn’t as dead as I’d been telling myself it was, and Henley was pulling us forward so our heads bumped, and Merrit’s stupid fedora slid off, but he ignored it as Henley giggled, and Daniel’s temple was touching mine, and he must be able to tell how my pulse was beginning to rise -

“It’s taken a lot of work to get us here,” Henley said, and I devoted all my attention to her, all of it that I could spare from the heat of Dan’s arm around me, from his head against mine. “And tonight’s the last night before it all begins, so I just wanted to say it’s been a real ride. To the Horsemen!”

“The Horsemen,” we repeated, like a toast.

“And to our Star Jane, without whom Jack would still be getting his lines wrong,” Merritt said, and it was just a trick of the acoustic that I could hear Daniel saying my name the loudest as I chuckled. Wasn’t it? We all let go of each other, and I went to Merritt, fixing his fedora, checking all of his tricks and his wires were where they were supposed to be.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You deserve it, kid,” he said, smiling at me.

Jack came next, almost bouncing as I made sure his microphone wasn’t switched off, again. The kid had a way of turning it off without realising.

“You’ll be great, Jack-o,” I told him, straightening his collar.

“Ya think?” I shoved his shoulder.

“Quit fishing for compliments, Wilder,” I told him. “Go get ‘em.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” He threw me a salute, and vanished after Merritt to his first entrance.

Henley was next, looking stunning as always in her suit-dress combo thing. “You ready?” I asked, making sure the wires in her jacket were in place.

She nodded. “Yup. You?”

“You know it.” I gave her a hug. “Be awesome, big sister.” She just looked at me a minute, then followed the boys out.

And I was alone with Daniel.

“You know my harness is fine,” he said as I approached, trying to keep things clinical.

“So it won’t matter if I check it one last time,” I said, snarking back automatically as I stepped around him to check how the jacket fell over his back. _Perfect. You can’t see the machinery at all._ I continued around to face Daniel again, giving him a last once-over. But everything was in place. Shaggy hair still shaggy, suit not mussed.

“Do I pass muster?” he asked, voice soft.

I nodded. “Good luck,” I said, stopping there even though I felt like there was more to be said.

“Don’t I get a hug too?” he asked, and I huffed even as I stepped into him, feeling his arms go around me and squeeze. It felt… nice. Too nice. _He likes Henley,_ I reminded myself for the hundredth, the thousandth time.

“You’re ridiculous, Atlas,” I told him, pulling away.

He just arched an eyebrow. I knew what he was after.

“Go be awesome, Dan,” I said, offering my fist in the way we always had, before he and Henley performed together.

“You be awesome too,” he said, touching his fist to mine. He looked at me for a minute, then turned on a heel and swept off down the corridor.

 

 

I stayed that way, staring at an empty hallway, for a good thirty seconds before my radio buzzed. I jumped, swore, and shoved on the headset.

“This is Jane. Go.”

“We’re ready on this end - showtime in two minutes. All go your end?”

“Just sent the Horsemen to their starting points.” I switched to the channel I shared with the team. “Guys, places?”

“Yea.” Henley.

“Yup.” Jack.

“Here.” Daniel.

“Roger that, kid.” Merritt.

“I’m on my way back to the booth,” I said, matching action to words as I half-jogged through the corridor underneath the stage, grateful I was wearing my black sneakers. I could run in heels. I just chose not to. Toggling to the all-hands frequency, I keyed my mic.

“Everyone, this is Jane. Have a good show and break a leg.” Various hoots, hollers, and affirmatives came back at me, and I was grinning as I skidded to a stop at my monitors. The red show-clock was ticking down.

“And the fireworks start in five… four…three…two…. One…”


	10. The Bank Robbery

The audience were cheering. So far, so good.

“Ok. Time for the main event,” I said into the main channel. “Ready the trapdoor.” _If this works, the whole world will believe that we robbed a bank with magic._ I grinned. _This is gonna be fun._

“Thank you,” came Merritt’s voice over my headset, and I watched as the foursome walked around the 360-degree set. “Tonight we would like to try something that will, well, set us a bit apart.”

“For our final trick,” Henley said, saying the words as I followed along in my script, index finger running across the words, “we’re going to do something never before seen on a Las Vegas stage.”

“Or any stage, for that matter.” Jack’s improv made me grin. It was really pointless writing all of this banter in, as it came out differently every night.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Daniel chimed in, half-jogging up to the central, raised circle, “Tonight, we are going to rob a bank.” The audience exploded, and I could see the glee on the Horsemen’s faces. To be fair, I was grinning pretty hard too.

“That’s a lot of excitement for a crime,” Daniel went on, hamming it up.

“I’m getting excited,” Henley said, pitching in. “What about you, people?” The pickups in the audience spiked into the red, and I turned them down as the feedback squawked.

“Okay, okay. Please, please, settle down.” Daniel was in his element, pandering to the audience, doing his explaining act without the edge of condescension that so easily clouded his more… personal interactions.

I opened the mike. “Merritt, Jack, Henley, grab your bowls now.” The three bent as trapdoors near to them opened and three bowls containing randomly numbered ping pong balls rose from beneath the stage.

Daniel kept talking. “Now. Who here has a bank they would like us to rob?” The audience went nuts. Again. “That’s a lot of people with a vendetta. So we’ll choose one at random, then.” _Random,_ I thought. _Right._ “My associates will make sure it’s random. Right?” The others raised their bowls, showing the ‘randomness’ that was sure to follow.

Jack gave the bowl to someone next to the stage - it looked like an Elvis impersonator, letting him pull out a ball at random. Taking it, he swapped it for the correct number, the one hidden in his jacket sleeve, and threw the correct ball at Daniel. “In Jack’s bowl there are section numbers - Jack, could you hand me a section number?”

“Thank you - we are looking at section B.”

“Merritt,” I said. “Your turn.” He started working the crowd even as Daniel continued his patter, switching the ball with the same skill that Jack had shown.

“Thank you, Merritt.” _Now why can’t they be that civil without thousands of people watching them?_ I thought as Daniel caught the ball, looking at it in mock-surprise. “We are looking at row number 5.”

Henley was already working the crowd, letting someone give her a ball. “Nice, Hens.”

Daniel caught it as she tossed, taking a quick, unnecessary look at the ball. “Ah, lucky number thirteen.” Daniel arranged the numbers, continuing his patter, greeting our target - one Etienne Fourcier of Paris, France. Bank - Credit Republicain de Paris. I listened with one ear as I turned my attention to the set below the top platform.

“Ok, standby for the transporter,” I said. “And check the lights are switched on in the ‘vault.’”

“Lights on,” one of the techs said.

“Transporter on standby,” said another.

“French, okay,” Daniel was saying as I tuned back in. “Uh… we were hoping for something a little more local, a kind of mom and pop credit union with no security.” The audience chuckled. “But that’s fine. A promise is a promise. Could you please come up to the stage, and we’ll rob your bank.”

Next came the pitch to Tressler. I made a face, very very grateful that no one could see me. At least I wasn’t the one onstage, having to glorify that sanctimonious son of a bitch. Scamming Hurricane Katrina victims. As far as I was concerned, he was going to deserve whatever we did to him. “There is someone here tonight, without whom we would just be four magicians working the circuit, trying to get… well, here, actually.”

“Ready spotlight on Tressler,” I said.

“Ready on Tressler,” the lighting guy said. He was only there if the computers went wrong. But computers could always go wrong.

“He is our friend, he is our benefactor.” That was the cue.

“And spotlight go.” I pressed the lighting cue.

“Mr. Arthur Tressler.” And, smooth as clockwork, the two spotlights converged on the seats where Tressler and his ‘executive assistant’ were sitting. “Please, stand up, Art.” I covered my snigger with a hand, wary of the open mic. I was willing to bet Tressler didn’t exactly enjoy being called ‘Art.’ Which was precisely why Daniel was doing it, of course. Meanwhile, Fourcier, the Frenchman, was at the stairs, and Jack was there to meet him. As planned.

The other three buttered Tressler up, he flattered right back, and, finally, the cue came again. “Ladies and gentlemen, Arthur Tressler.”

“And spot off Tressler,” I said, matching action to words, and the spotlight returned to its normal station. “Jack, transporter helmet.”

“Got it,” Jack breathed, grabbing it even as the stage hands reached it through a gap in the set. _I do like him. He’s going to be great someday._

“Ready the transporter.” It would be pushed up on pneumatics while Henley’s chiffon was being pulled around it. Timing was critical, and even though we’d practiced this many, many times, I was still nervous. Merritt was hypnotising the guy, showing him the helmet, mocking the French fashion sensibility - _although for a guy who’s wearing a fedora the whole time, he really doesn’t get to have an opinion_ , I thought wryly - and for the final piece of the puzzle, Daniel bounded up and got Fourcier to pick a card.

“Show it to your friends in Section B.”

“2 of hearts, confirm.” I grinned. Daniel still had it. It would be the exact same card, now in two separate locations. One in Las Vegas, one in Paris, surrounded by 3.2 million dollars worth of Euro-style flash paper. Fourcier signed the card, and it got tucked in his breast pocket.

“Now, Etienne,” Merritt said, and my heart rate rose slightly. “Let’s step into this cockamamie contraption.” The Frenchman did. “And I’ll step off it. Bonne chance. It’ s 11:50 pm here in Vegas.”

“Transporter in five.”

“That’s 8:50 in Paris.”

“Four.” My finger hovered over the button.

“Your bank opens in less than 10 minutes.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.” I pushed the button a second before Henley did. A mirror rose as a pneumatic lift lowered Etienne out of sight, practically dropping him into the vault set below. The duplicate lower half rose just as quickly as the mirror lowered, and the audience flipped.

Exactly as planned.

“Etienne in the vault,” I said. “Repeat, Etienne in the vault.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, was it?” Merritt asked, almost forlornly, and I chuckled.

“Nice work,” I said over the all-channels frequency.

“Where did he go?” I switched over the channel to the video channel in the ‘transporter helmet’.

“Wait, there he is,” Daniel said, pointing, and everyone looked. “This is Daniel Atlas. Can you hear me?” No response. I turned up the volume in Etienne’s headset. “Etienne? Are you okay?”

The Frenchman, still looking around the set in wonder, shook his head. “Yes.”

“Perfect. What do you see in there?”

“Money.” Etienne turned, so the audience could see it too. “Is this real?”

“Yes.” _No._ “Looks like three million or so Euro’s worth.” _3.013 million exactly, Dan. But you know that._

“Okay now here’s what we’re gonna need you to do.” Daniel said, and my finger rested over the last buttons on my console. The final ones. The white one, and the red one. “I want you to take the card that you signed out of your pocket. And I want you to take the ticket stub from tonight’s show and I want you to put it right there in the middle of the money.” Fourcier extended it a few inches from the middle of the stack, above one of the gaps between stacks. “Now, drop it.”

“Now, on the side of your helmet you should feel a button. Don’t press it just yet.” Daniel was still pattering on, and I grinned. This. This excitement, right before the big reveal. This is what I lived for. “That button activates an air duct that connects Paris to Las Vegas.” I pressed the white button. “Okay, good. Now you can press it.”

“All right, Etienne, hold on tight.” That was Jack. “You might feel a bit of a vacuum.” The exhaust fan in the centre of the ceiling had started to turn, and was pulling all of the false money up. I could see it, beginning to vanish on my screen. One last cue.

“Oh. Wait a second.” Daniel sounded confused. I pushed the red button. In Paris, the flash paper lit, and the fake Euro notes burned in seconds. Leaving a card with Fourcier’s signature, and a ticket stub, for seat B-5-13.

Money started to rain from the vents in the ceiling of the stage. As arranged.

The crowd went nuts.

I sat back in my chair, chuckling softly as I watched people starting to stand up from their seats and snatch money from the air. “Good job, everyone,” I said. “Nice show.”

“Thank you, Etienne.” Daniel said. “Thank you everyone!”

“We are the Four Horsemen,” they chorused together. “Good night!”

I watched them bow and bow, again and again with a Cheshire cat grin on my face, and punched the air. Just once.

_Like clockwork._

 


	11. The FBI Arrive

The FBI burst in on me in the shower.

Well, almost.

“Jane? Jane Reeves?” A hand pounded on the door as I was finishing rinsing the conditioner out of my hair.

“What?” I called back.

“FBI.”

My heart started to pound. _It’s all part of the plan, Janey. All part of the plan._ I tried to reassure myself. _Panic is good. Panic is real. You can let them see that._ “I’m in the shower,” I called back.

“Get out.” _Ok, now I’m annoyed._

“I’m going to finish washing my hair, and I’ll be right with you.” I grinned, picturing that reaction. “Five minutes.” I promised. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be out. You guys had better not have taken my clothes.” I gave my hair another rinse and glanced at my workout gear. Horribly sweaty and gross. And I thought I’d been being clever, getting my workout out of the way while the others were recovering from their night of drinking. Satisfied my hair was clean, I shut off the water and padded over to the sink and put my towel around me.

“I’m coming out.” I called, hand on the doorknob. “Don’t shoot!” I’d meant the last bit to be funny, but I found my stomach clenching with nerves anyway as I stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel for company.

And Daniel Atlas was staring at me. As well as three FBI agents. But them I had been expecting. Not Dan, blue eyes fixed on… well, not my face. Dan’s hands were behind his back, handcuffed, I assumed, and one agent had a hand on his shoulder, as if warning him not to move.

I turned to the agent closest to the door. “Care to tell me what this is about?” I asked, coolly. Mr. FBI didn’t have to know the blood was pounding in my veins, or that I was very much aware of precisely how much leg Daniel could see at this very minute.

“Your little magic group just robbed a bank,” he said, as icily as I had. “Please don’t tell me you _weren’t_ expecting a visit from the feds.”

“I take it we’re not staying?” that question I directed at Daniel. If anyone, I took orders from him and Henley. No one else.

He shook his head once, as if clearing it, then nodded. “They want us at the station. Or whatever the FBI have.” I nodded my head once. Everyone continued to look at me.

“I’m not changing with all of you in here!” I said, wanting to fling up my hands in exasperation, but wanting the towel to stay on more. “Get out. Please! Dear god.”

“One of us will have to stay here, Ma’am,” the sole female agent said.

“Fine. But you’re turning around, and the guys are gone,” I huffed.

I exchanged a glance with Daniel as he was led out. _All part of the plan,_ I read in his eyes.

 _Tell Henley I’m ok,_ I tried to send back, although I wasn’t sure he got the message. And then the door closed. I went to my suitcase and pulled out clothes. Underthings, a Four Horsemen tour manager shirt, jeans. Shoes. A blazer to go over the top.

The FBI agent was looking at me. “Is there something you need?” I asked, a bit more sharply than I meant. But she and her team had dragged me out of a shower. “You know, if I’m going to change, you’re going to need to turn around.”

“I don’t swing that way,” the agent protested, even as she turned.

“Neither do I,” I said blithely, slipping off the towel, “Mostly. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just picky about who gets to see me naked.” _Read no one._

“So I take it Atlas hasn’t seen it?” the woman snarked. I sighed, not quite able to decide which part of that statement to address first. I pulled on my panties and fastened by bra before I decided.

“First of all, the ‘it’ you are referring to is my body,” I said. “Second, it’s none of your business. Third, no. Why do you ask?” I was pulling on my jeans.

“He was shocked enough at you in a towel. He obviously hadn’t seen the rest of you.”

“Please,” I said, voice muffled by the tour t-shirt I was pulling over my head. “Atlas sees me as his kid sister or something.” And I was glad of the agent’s back as I said it. It was true. _No matter what Merritt thinks._ “You can turn around.” I grabbed the blazer off the bed and toed on my flats.

The agent escorted me down the stairs, where Merritt, Jack, Henley, and Daniel were all waiting. Henley caught my eyes and shot me a quick smile.

“How come she’s not cuffed?” Daniel asked.

“Cause she’s not a magician,” an older agent said. Jack hid a smirk. Daniel too. Henley was still trying to make sure I was ok. I nodded and smiled back. _I’m ok, sis._

“Do you have a hair tie?” I asked her. My hair was still practically dripping wet, and I wanted to minimise the damage to my clothes as much as possible.

“On my wrist,” she answered. I reached around her, manoeuvring the handcuffs that I could have broken her out of without even thinking hard, and snagged the cloth-covered rubber.

“Can we get this over with?” Merritt asked as I pulled my hair back into a pony tail.

I decided to put my exposure to Daniel to good use and be a smart-ass. “Yeah. Let’s go. As I’m assuming you feds won’t let me take the time and actually put makeup on.”

“Kid, you don’t need it,” the old FBI guy said, and I wasn’t sure whether he was trying to be fatherly or creepy. It was kind of both.

“FBI agents are like broken clocks,” Daniel said from behind me. “Even they get to be right twice a day.” I shook my head at his ridiculousness, snagging the phone I’d left on the counter as I did so.


	12. The Interview

“Miss Reeves, would you mind telling us what your function is, in this little band?”

I shrugged. “We’ve been over this already. _” At least twice._ “I’m Henley’s sister. Also the manager and trick-master for the Four Horsemen. What else do you need to know?”

“What exactly is a trick-master?” The old agent from the hotel was here, as well as some middle-aged guy with curly salt and pepper hair. Rhodes. Or something.

I searched for a comparison they would understand. “Picture me as the Wizard of Oz.”

“You’re the man behind the curtain,” Rhodes said. “Or woman, in this case.”

I nodded. He had at least half a brain, this Rhodes character. “I’m a super involved stage manager, basically. I time the tricks, I make sure supplies are transported and stored properly, and I run timings behind the scenes.” There. That should give them enough to be going on with.

“So you can tell us how that trick worked? How the horsemen robbed the bank?” That was the old guy again.

I sighed dramatically. This was the hard part. Projecting the nonchalant exterior while my insides were roiling. “So I categorically cannot tell you how _any_ of the tricks work,” I said. “No trick-master would. Code of ethics, you know. Besides, the answer’s simple.” I waved my hands. “Magic.”

“What the hell does a kid magician know about tricks?” Old Agent guy was up in my face now.

“Really?” I asked, channelling what Daniel would say. “Now you’re getting up in the face of a girl? That’s… impressively desperate.” I looked at Rhodes. “It’s like asking a reporter to reveal her source. It’s just not going to happen.”

“You little-“ Old Agent guy said, but stopped as Rhodes put a hand on his shoulder.

“You really think she’s gonna betray her sister?” he asked, probably thinking he was speaking to low for me to hear.

“You know, if I’m going to be in here much longer, I’d love a cup of coffee,” I said, using up all my daring and smart-ass quota for the day. “Your boys grabbed me before I could have my first cup of the day.”

Old Agent looked like he was on the verge of an apoplexy. Rhodes just shook his head. “Cream and sugar?”

“Both. I’m guessing this isn’t exactly hipster quality brew.”

Rhodes actually chuckled. “You got me there.” He grabbed Old Agent by the shoulder. “Come on, Cowan.” And they both vanished, leaving me staring my reflection in the one-way glass.

 _Well, that went surprisingly ok._ I’d been asked for my statement three separate times now. Once by the agent who’d stayed with me while I changed, done casually, in a big bull-pen. Then a few minutes after I’d arrived in this particular interrogation room, by a young-looking agent. Then I’d waited a half hour, then Rhodes and Cowan had come in. And now I got to wait. Again.

 _Trying not to freak out here._ I was fine when I had someone to talk to. Something to do. Heck, they hadn’t even left me handcuffs for me to break out of. I wasn’t enough of a threat, apparently. My breathing was getting quicker and shallower, and I closed my eyes, focusing on evening it out again.

_In. And out. And in. I hope the others are doing ok._

_Of course they are. They’re used to this - bending the truth so it suits them. You can do this too. Just hang in there. Thank about something else. Think about work. There was that safe-escape variant Henley wanted to try._

The door creaked open again, and a beautiful blonde woman came through it, sitting in the chair opposite me.

“Alma Dray,” she said. “Interpol.”

“Jane Reeves.” I replied. “Not Interpol.” She smiled, and it was genuine. _This lady is either really smart, or completely guileless. Either way, not good._ She slid me a deck of cards.

“Thought you might like this.” Her accent was French, possibly Parisian, although I wasn’t as good as Merritt at deciphering French localities. She smiled. “Mr. Atlas gave it to me.”

I sighed. “Of course Atlas had a card deck on him.” I slid it back. “Thank you, but cards are more Jack’s think than mine.”

She frowned prettily. “I thought a trick-master was capable of most tricks. It’s what makes her worthy of being in charge.” I wanted to sit back, acknowledge the hit. _She’s smart. Oh dear._ “Oh, no need to worry, I won’t ask you about how your tricks are performed,” she said. “I know you can’t tell me. I was hoping you’d tell me more about the Horsemen.”

“I think you’ll find that protecting my team is also part of my job,” I said. I wasn’t sure what exactly she was fishing for, but if I provided her with no information, there was nothing she could glean.

“A few questions about how you met them? Surely that’s not too invasive?”

“This morning all I was worried about was the wreckage that my set undoubtedly is,” I said, evading the question. “I went for a run before dealing with it, and the FBI pulled me out of the shower. I was traipsed through a casino lobby with my luggage, and I’ve been sitting here for a good hour with nothing to show for it.” I smiled, but there was little humour in it. “And I asked Agent Rhodes - that is his name, right? - For a coffee, because I didn’t grab anything before my workout. So, Mademoiselle Dray. I am tired, without caffeine, bored, and pissed off. I am not particularly inclined to be helpful or cordial, so can we just accept that I’m not going to tell you anything and let me go?” _I hope that does it. I really am getting bored enough that I might make a mistake._

Dray sighed. “If that’s the way you feel.”

The door opened, and Jack stuck his head through. “Hey, Reeves.”

“We gone?”

Jack grinned. “Hasta la vista, baby,” he said, and I rose from my chair, ignoring the kinks in my back from sitting so long.

I slid out of the horrible room to the hallway where the others were waiting. Jack hugged me first, then Merritt, then Henley, who squeezed extra tight before letting me go.

“I’m ok, Hens. I swear. It really wasn’t that bad.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, still dubious.

Daniel was fiddling with a deck of cards. “Are we ready to go?”

I nodded.

He walked next to me as Henley and Merritt saw about getting us a ride. Probably calling Tressler or one of his goons. “I’m sorry, about the whole shower thing,” he said, still flipping through the deck.

I shrugged. “Not your fault.”

“You sure you’re ok?” I looked at him, and his fingers stilled on the cards. I wasn’t sure what I was seeking in his face. Reassurance?

After a long moment I nodded. “Yeah, Dan. I’m ok.” He smiled, and I realised I’d used his nickname. He put an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to him briefly before letting me go.

“Good. Good.” A van pulled up. “That’ll be us.”


	13. New York, Three Months Earlier

“I’m going to get spoiled,” I said as Merritt came to lean on the railing next to me.

“What’s that?” He wasn’t wearing the fedora, for once. Maybe he was worried it’d get blown away. Or that I’d spike it off his head into the streets of New York. I stifled a grin. It did sound like something I would do.

“Traveling business class, staying at the best hotels, endless money for transport and supplies,” I said. “I’m going to get spoiled, living on Tressler’s dime like this.” I’d just booked the flights to Paris, and, in doing so, spent more than I usually spent on Henley and I in a year.

“Ya know, kiddo, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” Merritt said. I leaned over, shoving him with my shoulder.

“Get outta here,” I said, feeling my face heat. Merritt, for all his quirks and outlandish statements, didn’t give genuine praise often.

“No, I mean it,” he said. “You’re just as smart as Wonderboy. It’s no wonder he can’t stop staring at you.”

“Ridiculous,” I said, snarking back automatically.

“Which part? You don’t think Wonderboy is smarter than you, do you?”

“Oh, god no!” I laughed. “Nope. I am just as smart as J. Daniel Atlas, thank you very much.” I sobered. “I just don’t believe that he stares at me.”

“Like you’re a magic trick he can’t quite figure out, but he can’t help trying,” Merritt said. The wind gusted suddenly, sweeping through my jacket despite its best efforts.

“Oh please.”

“Is it so hard to believe that someone finds you attractive?” Merritt asked gently. This conversation was going in a dangerous direction. I debated heading Merritt off at the pass. I could probably talk around him, if I had to.

_Let’s see where this goes._

“Actually, with Henley in the room, yes.” I sighed. “I’m the smart one, not the pretty one. Which is fine.”

“Kid,” Merritt sighed. “What’s the deal with you, Henley, and Wonderboy, anyway? One minute, you act like family. The next, those two act like they want to kill each other and leave you playing peace-maker.”

Ok, this was getting dangerous. On the other hand, I got the feeling that Merritt still felt like an outsider. And if giving him a bit of information on us would make him feel more comfortable, well. I’d take one for the team.

“You know we met four years ago, right?” Merritt nodded. “Henley and I approached him - to see if he wanted to team up, and we ended up touring together for just over a year. You know nothing builds relationships faster than touring.” Merritt nodded again. I took what I hoped was an inadvertent breath. “We got along just fine - Dan and I -“ I used his nickname without thinking about it. “Henley and he, though, they dated, on and off and on and off. It was fine, when they were getting along.” I grimaced, thinking about the time I caught them kissing backstage and the fight the next day. Both had been painful, for entirely different reasons. “Eventually, enough was enough. Daniel was becoming a real asshole to Henley, and I was spending all my time either scared they’d fight, being a go-between, or stopping them from fighting. So we split.” I shrugged. “I’m actually surprised they’re getting along as well as they are.” No major blowouts, only a few disagreements that I’d had to deal with.

“And how do you feel about Daniel? You know, you’re the only person who calls him that. Except maybe his mother. But he never talks about his mother.” Merritt was too smart for my own good. I could talk around it still. Possibly. But that was growing more and more unlikely. I could just outright lie. He’d probably be able to tell, but I could still lie.

Or I could just tell him the truth.

The truth. It’d be nice to tell someone that particular truth.

 _Hiding it hasn’t made the feelings go away, Janey,_ I thought. _You’ve been suppressing the way you feel about Dan for years - you’ve never told anyone. Maybe if you say it, it’ll help. It can’t make things worse._

“I know,” I sighed. “And before I go any further, if you tell anyone about this, I will kill you, Merritt McKinley. You understand?”

Merritt raised his hands, palm forwards. “I promise, I promise.” I just looked at him. He sighed. “Really, kid. I like you. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Fine.” I grumped. I could do that with Merritt. Let all the grumpy out. He really had become the uncle I’d never had. The eccentric mentalist uncle that couldn’t seem to stop hitting on my sister….

I looked out at the New York skyline. Only 7pm and the sky was dark, well, as dark as it ever got in Manhattan. Lights were burning in almost every window, and I could see the glow of the lights reaching to the clouds above. _Ok. It’s time._

“I have a crush on Dan,” I said. I resolutely didn’t look at Merritt. “Always have. Ever since I met him. Not that it matters - I was still a kid back then, and he and Henley have,” I waved with my hands, “whatever they have.” I sighed. “It is what it is. I’ve tried to get rid of it, but so far no luck - no one seems to be able to get Dan out of my head. Whatever.” I looked back into the apartment, where Dan was waving his chopsticks around, arguing animatedly with Jack about something. Knowing those two, it could be anything from magical theory to the latest MMORPG. “I’m just happy to have him in my life.”

“Kid, I hate to say it, but you could do better than Wonderboy.”

“Really?” I looked at Merritt, finally, arching an eyebrow. “You know someone else who’s that smart, that good at magic, who I get on with? Who always has my back?” _Not to mention Dan’s fairly easy on the eyes,_ I thought glumly.

Merritt wasn’t looking pitying any more, which I appreciated greatly. “If that’s how you feel,” he said. I nodded. That was nothing _but_ how I felt. “Perhaps…” he trailed off.

“Perhaps what?” I asked sharply. _Don’t keep me hanging, here, Merritt!_

“Perhaps you should ask yourself why Wonderboy’s been staring at you. Because he has been staring,” Merritt said, before I could deny it. “And why even though he snipes at Henley all the time, I’ve never heard him say anything genuinely hurtful to you.”

I could connect the dots, grasp what Merritt was implying - that Dan also had fluttery feelings for me, but I dismissed that out of hand. He’d had years to act on it, if he so chose. And he hadn’t. But it was nice that Merritt thought it, at least. _I guess._

So I shrugged. “Maybe.” I could give Merritt that much. The theoretical possibility, at least. Another gust of wind swept through my jacket, this time making me shiver violently from head to toe. “I think that’s my cue to head inside.” I patted Merritt on the arm. “Thanks, Merritt. For listening.”

He tilted his head, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with my thanks. “Anytime, kiddo. Your secret’s safe with me.” I smiled, taking a deep breath before I headed back inside.

Back to reality.


	14. The Calm Before the Flight

“So what did you think?” I asked.

We were sitting a lounge at LAX, waiting for my flight.

“About?” Merritt asked. He was lounging on a couch, Henley’s feet in his lap. I hid my smile. Maybe there was something going on there, but I wouldn’t pry. Merritt kept my secrets, I’d keep his.

“The FBI,” I said, flipping a card idly back and forth. “Who’s the most dangerous?”

“Rhodes,” Jack said.

“Agreed,” Henley said.

“He’s got daddy issues,” Merritt put in.

“But he’s still not as smart as us,” Daniel said.

I stayed quiet, flipping the card. “You don’t like the Interpol agent?”

“What, the girl?” Jack whistled, and I sent the card whizzing at his head. “Ow!” I chuckled. I hadn’t thrown it hard enough to do any real damage. But it was still fun.

“Don’t underestimate a pretty girl, Wilder,” I said, “Anyway. I couldn’t get a read on her. I think… she’s mentally flexible enough to be a threat. And pretty enough to turn Rhodes’ head, if necessary.”

“Or she’s just a dumb blonde,” Daniel said, and I shot a card at him, too.

“It’s possible,” I conceded, but wasn’t willing to let my point slide entirely. “How likely is that, though?” My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. “I gotta run - plane’s boarding in half an hour. Send Tressler my regards?” I stood, making sure I had everything. Phone. Passport. Bag. Jacket.

“Why aren’t you flying in the jet with us, again?” Jack asked.

“Because I need to be in the same plane as the crates for the show, and Tressler’s plane is too small to carry them all and all of us,” I said, ruffling his hair as I passed him.

“And she can’t stand him,” Daniel put in, grabbing my arm as I passed, stopping me in my tracks.

“Very true,” I said, for Jack’s benefit, looking down at Daniel with eyebrows raised.

“Get there safe,” he said, and I nodded. Henley and Merritt were both standing to give me hugs.

“Enjoy business class without these hooligans,” Merritt said.

“Have fun,” I said, then raised my voice so I was addressing anyone. “See you in NOLA. And don’t forget to grab Tressler’s info.”

“Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs!” Daniel called, and I threw him the finger as I exited the lounge, bound for security, a broad grin on my face.

Business class, a show to go over on the flight, and peace and quiet.

Exactly what the doctor ordered.

 

::::

“Hi, guys,” I said, waving with one hand and hiding a yawn with the other as the Horsemen walked off the plane and towards the waiting cars. “Hello, Mr. Tressler. Did you have a good flight?”

“Lovely, thank you,” the Englishman replied, inclining his head in greeting. I tried to stop my flesh from crawling. “I take it all is well at the venue?” I gave my best smile. _You only have to get through tonight, remember. Be polite._

“Everything present and correct.” I’d done my usual checks and double checks when the truck had arrived at the theatre, and as the stage hands had helped me set up the stage and the props. Amazingly, nothing had so much as scuffed, but I wasn’t counting on that luck to hold.

“I shall see you at the show, then,” Tressler said, moving to his car. “Best of luck.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, picking up his duffel and slinging it over a shoulder. “So, to the theatre?” I nodded. Dress rehearsal, dinner, then the show.

“I’ll go with Merritt,” Henley said, giving Daniel a meaningful look, although what meaning she was trying to convey was beyond me. Merritt just smiled as I glanced over at him. “You go with Jack and Jane.”

“Shotgun!” Jack called cheerfully as he opened the car’s front door and slid in. I sighed. He made me feel so old.

“Everything go ok?” I asked as Tressler’s car pulled away.

“One ‘mentalist read’ from yours truly, and he told us himself,” Daniel grinned. “It’s all set up. Done.”

“Good.” I was glad to be back in an air conditioned car. I wasn’t exactly built for this heat and humidity.

“And your flight? How was it?” I tried to conceal my surprise. Daniel was trying to make polite conversation? With me?

“Fine,” I replied. “It’s still weird to be flying business class, but I got some work done.”

“Oh?”

“I went over the final show,” I said. “I’m still not a fan-“ I started, but Daniel broke in.

“It’s just -“ he stopped, and I motioned for him to go on. He might as well. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t said five times already. “It’s just weird to not have you there. We should be travelling together. You know.”

“Building team morale?” I asked. Daniel Atlas was worried about team morale. Would wonders never cease?

“Well, yeah.” And I’d made him uncomfortable. I hadn’t meant to do that. And since when could I make Daniel Atlas uncomfortable, anyway?

“Hey, how’s the venue?” Jack asked from the front of the car, while I was still trying to figure out what to say. I glanced forward.

“It’s fine,” I said, grateful for anything to say. “The building’s really cool - it feels old. You know, like in Paris - all the buildings feel like they’ve seen things? So that’s neat. And the stage is all set - your costumes are in your dressing rooms. Everything should be prepared and waiting for us.”

“Nice.” Jack turned his attention back to the driver, peppering him with questions about New Orleans, and I returned my attention to the back seat to find Daniel looking back at me, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other.

I tilted my head in question.

“I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this,” he said. “It really should have occurred to me before.”

“What?” I honestly couldn’t think of much we hadn’t talked about, working together this year.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… Do you ever wish it was you on stage, not Henley?” he asked, spitting out the words in that super-fast way he had, as if he wanted to get them away from him and out into the open.

I glared. The implication that I was possibly jealous of Henley was clear, but, from his expression, Daniel hadn’t meant it that way. _For once._ “You’re asking if I’d rather be in the spotlight, on stage, instead of running the show from behind the scenes?”

Daniel nodded.

I shook my head. “Honestly, no. You all go up there and perform your tricks for millions of people. That scares the bejeezus out of me. I like being the one behind the curtain. The one pulling all the strings, making sure everything goes right, the one that knows all the secrets.” I shrugged. “I don’t need the limelight. Leave me with my tricks and gadgets and my monitors and I’m perfectly happy.”

Daniel just looked at me, and I had to look away. No good came from getting lost in Dan’s eyes. No matter how blue they were.

“You know, I was curious about the tarot cards, so I looked them up.” I barely stopped myself from glancing up at Daniel again.

“Oh?”

“Imagine my surprise when I discovered there was another meaning behind the Star card,” his voice was biting now. Harsh. “Not just hope, but also death. Or incapacity. As in, being incapacitated. Serious injury. Care to share _why_ you thought keeping that from us was a good idea? Because you obviously knew.”

Of course he knew I knew. It was probably written all over my face. Jack made a noise, a strangled yelp, and I realised he was listening in too.

“I didn’t want to worry Henley,” I said finally, defiantly. “And, to be perfectly honest, back then, I didn’t think the rest of you would care.” I resolutely didn’t look at either of them. I stared out the window, watching New Orleans pass us by. We were almost at the venue.

A hand covered mine, and I looked down to find Dan’s hand taking mine and squeezing gently. I looked at him - _had_ to look at him. “We care,” he said, simply. “About what happens to you. I care.” My heart stopped, for a moment, then shattered. Again. It was so _close_ to what I wanted to hear. But it was as close as I was going to get, so I probably shouldn’t complain. And Daniel was still talking. “You’d tell us, if there was something wrong? If you were sick, or in danger?”

His brow was furrowed, lips drawn together, fingers tightening for an instant on mine - he was actually worried.

I nodded. Once, slowly. “I’m not sick,” I said. “And I’m in no more danger than you are.” Daniel relaxed, fractionally. He didn’t let go of my hand, though.

“Jane?” Jack asked, half-turning leaning his head over the headrest. I glanced up at him, realising I’d been looking at Dan’s hand covering mine.

“Hm?”

“You know if there was a problem, we’d come and bail you out, right? Not just Henley and Danny - Merritt and me too.” He looked so earnest and determined I had to smile at him. Dan’s hand squeezed mine, as if he agreed with the sentiment. I squeezed back.

“I know,” I said, actually believing it for perhaps the first time. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Anytime.” His equanimity restored, Jack returned to looking out the window and talking to the driver.

I didn’t know what to say next - should I start talking work again? It seemed wrong. Not when I was in a happy bubble of belonging, not when I felt like I might have a family, at least for a while. Not while Dan was still basically holding my hand, and showing no sign of letting me go.

No. I could take the remaining ten minutes and just enjoy the fact that I had people. People I trusted, who trusted me.

_I like this feeling._

 

 


	15. The Enemy

“Everyone has their trackers on?” Daniel asked, rushing into my booth. “Because if they don’t, and after the show things don’t go as planned-“

“Everyone has their trackers,” I said, calmly, holding up my wrist to show mine. Daniel was still pacing. “Daniel.” Still pacing. “Dan.” He stopped. “It’s all gonna be fine.” I smirked. “We’ve gone over this show how many times now? Backwards and forwards. Together and separately. If there’s a hole, one of us would have found it. Ok?”

He huffed, leaning against one of my consoles as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. You’re right. We’re fine.”

“We know where the FBI van is?” I asked.

Daniel nodded. “Yeah. Outside the front entrance, down the block. Cowan’s guarding it.”

“And I have Rhodes’ and Dray’s tickets waiting for them,” I said. “See? We’re ready.”

“Jane?” I heard from another corridor. “Jane - we’ve got a problem.”

My head snapped to the corridor, where one of the techs was scurrying in. “Yes, Yves, what?”

“Thaddeus Bradley’s here.”

“Here?” Daniel cursed. “What does here mean?”

“He just arrived.” _Lovely._

“Dan -“

“Headed to the dressing room,” Daniel said, jogging off in that direction.

“Ok, you know what to do, right?” I asked Yves.

“Do not let him near any of the backstage areas apart from the dressing rooms, _oui,_ ” Yves replied. I pulled my headset and radio from the rack by my booth.

“Good. Spread the word, if you would. I’ll be with the Horsemen.”

Yves nodded, and turned on his heel. I half-jogged in the direction Daniel had gone, adjusting the radio on my belt and slinging the headset around my neck. _Why now?_ I thought, corridors and doorways passing as I made my way through the Byzantine backstage of the Savoy. _Why does Thaddeus Bradley, former magician has-been and current terror to all practicing magicians, have to appear_ now _?!_

 _Because it’s inconvenient now._ I answered my own question. I keyed my radio.

“Position on Bradley?”

“I sent him to the dressing room.” That was Yves. “He should be there any second.” I skidded round the corner and barrelled into the shared green room. No Bradley. Henley and Merritt were on a couch, Jack on another couch next to them, Daniel sitting in a corner, playing with a deck of cards. All of them looked at me as I entered, but no one said anything. I took a seat behind the door, where I could see everything, waving them to continue whatever they were doing.

“Do me a favour,” Merritt said, turning to Henley. “Visualise your most adventurous sexual experience.” I snorted, then giggled. Merritt waggled his eyebrows at me before turning back to Henley.

“Stay out of my head, you perv,” Henley said, but I had the feeling her heart wasn’t quite in it. Perhaps it was because we were all putting on a show for Bradley, or perhaps she wasn’t as opposed to Merritt’s advances as she’d like us to think. _I need to talk to her privately. At some point. But there’s no time._

“Well, no,” Merritt said, bantering right back, “If I stay out of your head, I’m never gonna get into your pants.”

“Right.” Henley drew out the word as Jack and I exchanged looks. I didn’t dare look at Daniel’s expression, but at least Jack and I could appreciate the ridiculousness of this.

“So let’s stick with this exercise,” Merritt continued.

“And it helps-“

“Pardon the intrusion.” Thaddeus Bradley walked through the door I’d left open, moving soundlessly. _Some vestige of his training,_ I thought sardonically. _Of course he kept the stuff that would let him expose hard-working magician’s tricks._ “I just wanted to wish you good luck tonight.” He turned as he spoke, including us all in the statement. Including me.

“What, so you can try to expose us later on your little website?” Jack asked, the picture of nonchalance. I was so proud.

“And on demand,” Bradley said.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Henley declared.

“Oh no? Operating on a special plane because of the Eye? I heard it’s a lovely place. Lots of star shine and moonbeams. Make any magician’s wish come true.” I snorted at the blatant falsehood, dressed in shiny clothes, and Bradley turned his attention to me. _Bad move, Reeves. Bad move!_

“Please,” I said, folding my hands in my lap. “Please make a video with information that false. I always enjoy a good work of fiction.” Bradley just stared at me, and I tried to keep my expression cheerfully neutral. Inside, though, my pulse was pounding. _Keep it together. Keep it together._

Finally, Bradley turned away, facing the other Horsemen once more. “You’ve come a long way,” he said, voice smooth but oh so condescending. “Much further than anyone would have expected of a bunch of wanna-be and has-beens.” _Oh crap. Egos are involved now. Let’s hope Daniel doesn’t do anything stupid._

“Oh - If by ‘has-been’ you’re referring to me,” Merritt said, standing up. I hid my sigh of relief the best I could. Giving Daniel a few seconds to cool off from the insult to his ego was always a good idea. “I just wanna say I’m flattered, because I always considered myself a never-was.” Merritt fiddled with the jacket in his hands. “Do you mind if I do a quick read on you?”

“By all means.” _Oh, this is gonna be fun._

“Okay,” Merritt began. “I’m picturing a little boy. He wants to be a great magician someday. And though he’s good, he’s not quite good enough. So he ends up at the bottom of the entertainment food chain, feeding off of those who have the talent that he never did. Tell me. Am I getting close?” _And score one for Merritt McKinney._ Jack and I shared another amused look.

I thought that might be it, but Daniel suddenly stood. “Wait. Before you go.” _Oh crap._ “I’m working on something new. Do you have a second?” Henley stood up as well, moving to stand between Daniel and Merritt. Jack joined. I stood as well, wanting to be ready for whatever Dan’s play was. Bradley nodded. “Okay. Name a card.”

“King of hearts,” Bradley replied.

“Knew it,” Merritt chimed in, and I had to grin at him. He really excelled at being the most obnoxious person in the world, when he wanted to be.

Daniel held out the deck of cards he’d been playing with and clicked his fingers. Nothing. He blew on the deck. Nothing.

Bradley smiled. “It’s up your left sleeve.”

Dan made a show of checking it, and I knew there was a trick. He was being too obvious. “Is it?” Henley looked as well. “No, no, I don’t see it there.” Daniel glanced at Bradley. “You know, why don’t you check your unnecessary velveteen pocket there?”

Bradley looked at Daniel, then, grudgingly, inspected the pocket, pulling out a playing card. But instead of a face card or a number, the card had two words printed on it. I was at the perfect angle to see the words “Suck It” emblazoned on the card. I caught Dan’s eye and grinned. He smirked back.

“Anyway, thank you so much for coming by - Jane can show you the way out - but this is kind of a talent only area, so…”

“Break a leg,” Bradley said, courteous to the last as he turned to exit the room.

“Hey, you break something too,” Merritt said as I began to follow Bradley out.

“Apologies for Mr. McKinley,” I said, as we were walking down the dimly lit corridor. “He doesn’t quite know the line between antagonistic and actively rude.” _Actually, Merritt does,_ I thought apologetically. _But making Thaddeus Bradley even more annoyed with is isn’t good for anyone._

“No need to apologise,” Bradley said smoothly. “But it is your job to cover for them. Protect their secrets.”

“Their secrets are mine,” I agreed. And then, for good measure. “If the FBI couldn’t make me talk, Mr. Bradley, I doubt anything you can say will make me do so.”

“Fair enough.” We were at the entrance to the stalls.

“Enjoy the show,” I said. I gestured at an usher. “Anya will show you to your seats.” The girl scurried up. Bradley gave me a little wave.

“I hope your people are as loyal to you as you are to them,” Bradley said in parting.

_Ass._

 

:::::

 

“I really dislike that man,” I said, slumping onto the couch next to Henley. It was five minutes to showtime, and I’d finally made my way back to the green room and the Horsemen.

“Bradley?” Henley asked. I nodded.

“I hope your people are as loyal to you as you are to them,” I quoted. “As if.” I looked up, into each of their faces. “He has no idea.” _I trust you all. With my life. With my magic._ I meant it, but I couldn’t quite say it. And the silence was stretching on -

“If we’re going to do that insane pre-show ritual, now might be the time,” Daniel said, saving me for once. He stood, and we all copied him. I was between Jack and Daniel this time, Henley and Merritt opposite me.

“I’ll do the talking, this time,” I said, as aware of Dan’s arm around me, the cologne he was wearing, as last time. At least I wasn’t as surprised. I knew what was going to happen. “People, it’s been a pleasure, and last show was a delight. Let’s make tonight’s show go just as well, and play tricks on the people who deserve it. To the Horsemen!”

“The Horsemen,” the others chorused.

“And to Jane,” Jack said, making me jump. I felt as much as heard Daniel huff a chuckle as his arm tightened briefly around me, steadying me. “Who passed up flying in a Gulfstream to baby our gear, who does the work of ten men. To our Star.”

“To Jane.”

“Our Star.”

“Janey.” I heard all three, intermingled, and I couldn’t quite tell, with their voices so intermingled, who said what. Because it must have been my imagination that Dan had said ‘ _my_ Star’ instead of ‘our Star’. Right?

Of course right.

“Ok, let’s get this show on the road,” I said, stepping back. “We’re all clear on what happens after the show?” I asked. Everyone nodded. “Inspections. Mr. Wilder?”

Jack stepped forward with a grin. “Reporting for duty, ma’am.” He snapped to attention and saluted. I just grinned at him, putting a hand on his shoulder and making him turn as I scanned him one final time for excess wires. I found his lavalier mike had slipped, so I adjusted it. Otherwise, everything was fine.

“Go get ‘em,” I said, meaning to just pat him on the shoulder and send him on his way, but Jack pulled me in for a quick hug.

“I know why you didn’t tell Henley,” he whispered in my ear. “About the card. But I got your back too, ok?”

“Ok,” I said as I pulled away, supremely touched. And no, those weren’t tears burning behind my eyelids. I was stone, damn it. “Thanks, Jack.” He patted me on the head, and headed out.

Merritt was dispatched swiftly - he had fewer illusions, so fewer gadgets that could go wrong, even though his damn collar wouldn’t sit straight.

“It’s fine,” Henley said as I adjusted it for the third time. “It’s a little crooked. Just like him.” Merritt grinned over my shoulder, and I half-turned to see Henley smiling back at him. _Interesting…_

“Well, if Henley says it’s fine,” I said, giving Merritt a meaningful look of my own. “Go. Have a good show.” Merritt gave me a quick hug too.

“Good luck, kiddo.”

And he was gone too.

Then Henley. She was flawless, having had enough experience with my almost-OCD attention to detail to not really need my help anymore. I gave her a hug.

“Go be awesome, big sis,” I told her.

“You too, little sister,” she said, giving me an air-kiss on the cheek so as to not smudge her red lipstick.

“Looks like it’s just you and me again,” I said, turning to Dan, who was adjusting his cuffs.

Dan just looked back. “What was Jack saying?” he asked. “When he hugged you - what did he say?”

“You weren’t reading lips?” I asked facetiously, walking around him to check his various contraptions and tricks were hidden.

“Wrong angle.”

“He was just saying he had my back too.” I shrugged. “You know, about the card.” I was facing Dan again. “You’re all set, Mr. Atlas.” I held out my fist. “Go be awesome.”

Dan pressed his fist to mine. “You’re _sure_ you have your escape route planned?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Think about who you’re asking that question,” I said. _I will not get annoyed at Daniel. I will not get annoyed at Daniel._

“Right, of course,” he said, taking a few steps, then turning and taking the same steps back so we were facing each other again. “Just…” he caught my gaze, and I didn’t manage to look away in time, so I was caught, staring back at his blue eyes, intent on mine. “Just don’t let the FBI catch you,” he said finally.

“I won’t.” I looked away. I had to. “Have a good show, Daniel.” I turned to leave.

“Wait.” I looked back. Dan was standing there, arms slightly outstretched. “A hug for luck?”

“I thought we did the fist-bump for luck,” I snarked, but walked the few steps into his hold anyway. Of course I did. His arms went around me and tightened almost painfully for a second before relaxing into something a little more comfortable.

“See you on the bus?” He spoke low, into my ear. It was our particular escape route - Daniel and I would travel together, Merritt and Henley and Jack as the other group. Dan and I were taking the Greyhound to Atlanta, then flying up to New York. The others would take the rental I’d booked, with the Horsemen money, drive to Baton Rouge, and fly from there.

“See you on the bus,” I agreed. Dan pulled away just far enough for me to see his face, for him to see mine. One of his arms disengaged from my waist and moved up, his thumb barely tracing a line from my nose to my temple. I couldn’t breathe.

A voice crackled over the intercom, startling me back into reality. “Two minutes to showtime.”

“And that’s our cue,” I said, as Daniel turned to leave the room.

“Time to make Tressler substantially poorer,” Dan said. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it, do you?” I asked, an eyebrow raising as we headed down the corridor.

“Nope.” Dan winked and grinned as he peeled off to the stage.

_I swear. He’s going to be the death of me._

 

 

 

 


	16. The Set Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... now I've finished the Cliff and have had a few days to mourn, I'm writing again. 
> 
> My post schedule for this is as follows: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Hopefully I can keep up with that!

I keyed the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” my modified voice boomed throughout the backstage and into the hall and the corridors. “The Savoy management welcome you to tonight’s special performance: The Four Horsemen, Act II. Unlike traditional performances, the Four Horsemen encourage you to film, call your friends, upload, stream, and tweet the show freely. Thank you. The show will begin in a few minutes.” _Eat your heart out, Thaddeus Bradley,_ I thought, switching off the microphone. _No possibility of an exclusive this time._

I scanned my monitors, checking everything was in its proper place. Merritt and Henley were on one side of the stage, Jack and Dan on the other. Agent Rhodes and Agent Dray were in their seats, settling in next to Thaddeus Bradley. Arthur Tressler was being escorted into his box. _So far, so good._

I felt my pulse beginning to calm, not race. Somehow, that moment I’d had with Dan in the green room, where he’d had my face in the palm of his hand, where I’d thought, just for an instant, that he’d been about to kiss me. But that was nonsense. However much it made my heart pound, it was fiction. Something more unreal than any of the magic we were performing tonight. I put it firmly out of my head.

“Showtime,” I said over the all-hands frequency. “Horsemen, places, please.” I could see them nod at the cameras, Henley flashing me a quick smile, before they strode onstage in the complete blackness, heading for the spots that could only be seen from on-stage.

I pressed a button, and the recorded voice began to play.

“Arthur Tressler presents Jack Wilder,” another button press, and the spotlight above Jack turned on, “Henley Reeves,” her spotlight, “Merritt McKinney,” Merritt’s spot, “And Daniel Atlas.” The last spotlight turned on. “The Four Horsemen.” _And here we go._ The crowd applauded, and Dan brought his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention before he began to speak.

“Thank you. Before we begin, we’d like to single out two people in particular. A man and a woman to whom we’d like to dedicate tonight’s performance.”

“FBI Agent Dylan Rhodes and the lovely, if somewhat inexperienced Interpol agent Alma Dray, everyone,” Henley continued smoothly. The crowd began to boo as I made the spotlights swerve onto the two agents. I smiled a little grimly as they both shielded their eyes from the spots. _Hey, at least I’m not dragging you out of a hotel with still-damp hair,_ I thought, somewhat viciously.

“Yeah,” Jack put in. “Agent Rhodes has personally vowed to, quote ‘nail us.’”

“And we encourage him to do so,” Merritt said, not to be outdone. “If he has the brains, and the fur.” _Fur? What does having fur have to do with anything?_ I shook my head over Merritt’s metaphors.

And then the show began properly.

“What is magic?” Daniel said, walking to the edge of the stage. “Our argument - nothing but targeted deception. So I want you to look. Look as closely as possible. Because the tricks you are about to see may not seem connected. But we assure you, they are.” I smiled as he gave the speech, so close to the words he’d been saying the first time we met, but polished, weathered. “Is what follows 100 different tricks? Or is it one giant illusion?” The audience cheered.

::::

Henley, having ducked backstage to grab her rabbit, walked forward as a box rose from the trapdoor beneath the stage. Daniel followed, playing assistant for once. Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t taken much arguing for him to agree to let Henley take the lead on this one.

“And now for one of the oldest tricks in the book,” Henley said, approaching the box. “Danny, if you wouldn’t mind opening up the box and showing everybody that it’s completely empty.” Daniel flipped the front portion the box open, turning the table on its Lazy Susan to show as many of the audience as possible that it was, in fact, an empty box. A general chuckle.

Dan put the box back to rights and opened the top. Henley tucked little Fluffy the rabbit into the box and closed the lid. “And now you will say the magic word,” Daniel said.

“Abracadabra.” We’d thought about that for a while, arguing back and forth if perhaps it wasn’t funnier to go with something more meta. Like ‘wingardium leviosa’. Or ‘please’. But in the end, tradition had won out.

“Yes, and I will wave this magic wand for no reason,” Daniel said, making the wand appear from his jacket sleeve and tapping it once on the box. “And then…”

Henley opened the front door of the box, “Fluffy has magically vanished before your very eyes.” A round of applause, but the trick wasn’t quite done yet. “And now we are going to debunk a few magic myths this evening,” she continued. “We all know that Fluffy is, in fact, alive and well.” Daniel unfastened the mirror from the box, revealing Fluffy as the audience cooed at the reappearance of the habit. “And Fluffy has miraculously reappeared.” She picked up the fuzzy animal. It was always amazing to me how good Henley was with animals. I’d tried, but I didn’t quite have the knack for keeping them calm.

“As has the mirror,” Dan said, lifting the mirror out of the box and spinning it, “which makes the box only appear as thought it’s empty.”

“Now,” Henley said, and I grinned. _Here comes the twist._ Daniel retreated offstage as two stagehands picked up the box and the platform it was standing on. “We’ve all heard of pulling the rabbit out of the hat. But has anyone heard of pulling a hat out of a rabbit?” And with a twist of her hands, she pulled out the top hat from her sleeve, hiding Fluffy in her jacket, to rapturous applause. _Nice one, sis._

Jack followed it up by doing a few card tricks, sending his playing cards rocketing into the house. He also managed to swap two people’s accessories by the time they got from their seats to the stage, and I was practically rolling around my booth in laughter at their shocked expressions once they got to the stage and saw the end result.

Merritt then stepped up and started to lay the groundwork for the night’s actual show.

“We’re going to need 12 courageous volunteers.” He chose random members of the audience and had them come to the stage. “If you haven’t experienced mass hypnosis, you’re about to.” He went along the line, the dozen people standing facing the audience. “And sleep. Down, down. Sleep, sleep.” And down the line he went, clapping people on the shoulder, sending them under. It was always bizarre to me, watching people get hypnotised. I was one of those people that just wouldn’t go under - like Merritt. And Daniel. We just… Merritt’s running theory was that we were just too controlling of ourselves (and others) to let anyone control us. So I wondered, every time Merritt did his voodoo, exactly what it would be like, to be one of those trusting people.

“When you hear the word ‘freeze’, you are all football players.” The audience chuckled. “And your job is to tackle, dismantle, crush, tear limb from limb, the quarterback.” I chuckled myself, looking at the array of body types Merritt had suggested. This was gonna be fun… “You will know who the quarterback is. He will be the one saying the word ‘freeze’.” And then he had them all huddle in, cheer, and then go back to their seats.

Then the intermission. People were buzzing. I had half an eye on our social media, and we were actually trending on Twitter, to my surprise.

“How’s it looking?” A half-hug. I looked up.

“Hey, Hens - looking good out there,” I said.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Feels good - performing.”

“Well, you’re all doing a great job.”

“It’s easy, when we have you looking after us,” Henley said, and I blushed. “Come on, you know you make our lives so much easier, right?”

“Henley,” I protested.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” She patted my head. “I just wanted to say have a safe journey if I don’t talk to you later.”

“You too. Take care of the boys for me.”

Henley chuckled. “I’ll be lucky if they let me do anything but sleep in the back seat. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Merritt would let you drive, if you wanted to,” I said loyally. Henley cocked an elegant eyebrow.

“Just… Be safe.”

“I will,” I said. “And Daniel’s got my back.”

Henley sighed. It was my turn to raise an enquiring eyebrow. “He does,” she agreed finally. “He always does.” She bent and gave me a quick hug. “How did you grow up so fast?”

“Hens!” I had no idea what brought on this sentimentality. “What?”

She sighed again. “Have a good show, Janey. Love you.”

“Love you too, sis,” I said, patting her arms where they crossed around my neck. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” And with a flip of her hair, she was out of the booth and heading backstage once more.

:::::

Three quarters of the way through the show came the most dangerous trick. Well, the most physically dangerous trick. It started out with Daniel blowing bubbles. Simple enough.

But the bubbles got bigger, and bigger, and, on cue, Henley took a flying leap, and snagged in one. Of course she had wires. Of course it was all a setup, but my heart was still in my throat as she levitated over the audience, who were gasping and pointing cellphone cameras in her direction.

She floated up, up, and I was starting to worry about load tolerances - they weren’t meant for long use, and Henley only had so long to get into position, when she pulled her quick release, and I gasped with everyone else as she fell-

Right into Dan’s waiting hold. He caught her and said something - I couldn’t hear what over the applause of the audience. She said something back, and Dan grinned, a real, proper grin, before he vanished into one of the doors I’d set up in the wall of the balcony.

And then it was time for the main event.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks my first departure from canon, instead of me just... skirting the issue and adding in Jane whenever I felt like it... I wonder if anyone spotted it. 
> 
> Hope you're liking this story - comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	17. The Real Con Man

“At the intermission,” Merritt began, looking out into the audience, “We asked you to write down your current bank balance and seal it in an envelope. Now, it’s time to take those envelopes out.” People ducked down, fumbling under their seats for the envelopes. I keyed my mic.

“Check the big flashlight and the envelope are ready,” I said.

I waited for confirmation, half-listening to the audience shouting out names.

“Frannick Clement, Merritt,” I said quietly in his earpiece.

“Confirm, flashlight is working, envelope is working,” one of the stage hands said.

“And Dina Robertson,” I said at Merritt, then, switching channels. “Jack? Daniel? Henley? In position please.”

“Your last name is Josepha Hickey,” I told Merritt, watching the cameras in the wings as Jack, Henley, and Daniel came into view. Good. I tuned into Merritt again.

“Josepha, I want you to focus on your balance and count from one to 10 out loud.”

“562,” I reminded Merritt.

“One,” Josepha said. “Two, three, four five”

“Stop. Is the first digit 5?” Merritt asked.

“Yes.” Josepha had that half-believing smile I was getting to know intimately, working with Merritt.

“Do it again, this time faster.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six..”

“Stop. Again.”

“One, two-“

“Josepha, is your bank balance $562 as of today?” Merritt asked.

Josepha looked abashed, then squared her shoulders and looked Merritt dead in the eye. _That’s a brave lady,_ I thought. “Yeah. That’s what I got.” And the audience repaid her bravery, clapping for her.

“Unfortunately you’re wrong.” Merritt turned, not allowing anyone to process that.

“Dina Robertson, 1,477,” I said again.

Merritt ‘guessed’ her correct bank balance, and then, upon confirmation, said “You think it is. But in fact, you, too, are wrong. Uh, Clement,”

“6500,” I said hurriedly, then stood, shoving away from my booth and half-jogging through the corridors to the box seats where Tressler was sitting.

“You do not have $6500 in your account. In fact, everyone stand up.” And, like good audience members, they all stood - I could hear the rumble as I passed through backstage, opening a door and running into the front of house. “Yeah. Put your envelopes to your forehead, focus on your number.” Merritt paused, giving everyone a minute, and then continued. “Oooh. Oh! This is… oh dear. Just as I feared. This is strange…” I wondered how people were reacting. I couldn’t hear much, so they were probably just looking confused. “You know, I hate to say this, but you’re all wrong.” And it was so much better that it had come out of Merritt’s mouth instead of Daniel’s. _Or else we’d have had a riot._

“And Henley and Daniel go,” I said, keying the walkie on my belt, sending them out of the wings and onto stage.

“Every last one of you is dead wrong about what you think is in your account. Okay. You can sit down now.” Daniel clapped Merritt on the shoulder and whispered in his ear - loud enough for me to hear through the microphone.

“Thank Tressler and let’s fleece the asshole.” I grinned, rounding the corner and sweeping back the curtain smoothly and silently.

“Oh!” Merritt said. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” He grinned somewhat manically, although someone who didn’t know him well would have been hard-pressed to spot the crazy. I did, and I just grinned wider in reply. I keyed my mic one more time. “And spot on Tressler in three, two, one,” I started, as Merritt began speaking again.

“This evening would not be possible if it weren’t for our great benefactor Arthur Tressler. Big applause! Big applause!”

Tressler’s assistant looked around, and I toned down my grin to something a bit more for polite company.

“Art, actually, why don’t you come up on stage for the finale?” Merritt asked. Tressler might have been surprised, but it was hard to tell with him. He looked around and spotted me. I smiled and gestured for him to precede me through the curtain.

“Come on down, Art!” Henley said.

“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Tressler,” I said softly, over the jumble of applause. “I’ll get you backstage.” And waited. Waited for what was probably only a second or two, but felt like eternity, until he gave a brief nod and turned, walking out of the box.

“There he goes,” Daniel said. “Okay. Good.” _I could have done without the play-by-play, Danny,_ I thought sourly, but I couldn’t say much. Not with Tressler in front of me. I took a few quicker steps to walk alongside the elderly man.

“Care to tell me why I’m traipsing around the back of the Savoy?” Tressler asked me.

“I couldn’t do that,” I protested. “It would spoil the trick.”

“And why did you come to get me personally?” he asked. “I’m sure you have better things to do than escort an old man.” We were backstage now, opulence, reds and golds fading into concrete, cinderblock, and matte black paint. I took out my flashlight, flipping it on so Tressler could see.

 _The reason I’m helping you is so I have an alibi just like the Horsemen do,_ I thought grimly. “Actually, Mr. Tressler, this is the most important place for me to be right now.” We were by the wings, stage hands stepping back for Tressler to get through. “Out the first wing, please,” I said.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, my dear.” Yves passed me a mic. I checked it was on and slipped it into my waistband, then followed Tressler briefly out onto stage.

“Now, Art, did you fill out your envelope?” Henley asked as Tressler came onto stage, taking his hand. I met Daniel’s eyes as I passed him Tressler’s mic. ‘Here goes nothing,’ I mouthed. He nodded, then turned back to the audience. I retreated backstage just in time to help Jack carry out the giant electronic envelope.

Thankfully, the makers of Kindle had helped us, making plastic that looked like paper, plastic that could show a certain text, then change, at the drop of a hat.

Of course, the number only changed if I had a chance to get to my booth to change it. I ran, as silently as I could, motioning for black-clad people to get out of my way. But we’d practiced this. And they scattered. Like rabbits.

“Well, no need,” Henley continued as I ran. “We’ve done it for you.”

“Now, Art,” Merritt said, and I grinned at the nickname. “I took a guess. North of 140. Am I right?” I had no idea of Tressler’s expression. Something appropriately pompous, I hoped. “That’s 140 million, by the way,” Merritt clarified.

“I’m sorry, Merritt,” I heard the sound of the actual paper being slid off the plastic cheque. I skidded, caught the doorframe, and I was in my booth again. “How can he be right about his balance and everyone else be wrong?” My fingers were on the keys of my laptop before my butt was in my chair, waiting for the right moment.

“I think possibly because he, too, is wrong,” Merritt answered Henley. “Everybody, take out your paper.” Envelopes started ripping in the house. “And, using the flashlight under your seat, start to warm up that paper. I think your correct balance begins to appear.” _It had damn well better._ I’d been the one writing each and every ‘corrected’ balance in invisible ink, checking it twice, then placing them all personally below each and every seat. When the heat of the flashlight beam hit the paper, the real balance would appear from underneath the person’s handwriting. Or at least, that was the theory.

“Now, Art,” Merritt continued, smoothly, “don’t worry, we have a flashlight for you.”

Jack stepped out from the wings once more, carrying a ludicrously large flashlight. The audience tittered, even as they kept waving their flashlights over their papers. From my monitors, it looked like an audience full of fireflies.

I pushed a button.

“Look,” Daniel said.

“What’s going on there, Daniel?” Merritt asked, peering around Tressler.

“Wait, this is weird.” Daniel said, as if he didn’t already know exactly what had happened. “A second ago, it said $144,579,651. But now… Now it says $70,000 less.” There was a general murmur from the audience. Dressler didn’t look too concerned. It was still a trick to him. _For now._

“Josepha,” Merritt said, turning back to the audience, “Can you please stand up?” The woman stood, still holding flashlight, envelope, and paper. “Now, what is your new number?”

$70,652 now in my account,” she said, smiling in surprise, turning the paper around and showing it to her neighbours. _Well, it’s a bit of a reach to believe it’s in your account, but… it’s not a bad thing to have such belief._

“Is it possible that Josepha’s balance went up the exact amount that Art’s went down?” Henley asked, just in case anyone in the audience hadn’t made the connection themselves. _Although, honestly, they’d be stupid not to. Especially after what’s about to happen._

I pushed another button.

“Hey,” Jack called, “It’s happening again.”

“Wow, Art’s balance has gone down another 280K,” Henley said, making a show of looking at the check, doing the math so the audience didn’t have to.

“Dina Robertson?” Merritt asked, and I could see the glee hiding behind his calm expression, “what does yours say?”

$281,477,” the woman said, stumbling over the number in disbelief. The audience cheered again, this time, louder. Jack set down the lamp. Henley and Daniel let the check drop to the floor.

“We have confession to make,” Henley said, even as the crowd was quieting down.

“She’s right,” Jack cut in. “We lied about something.”

“Yes,” Daniel agreed, before any of the audience reacted. “None of you were chosen at random.”

“All of you have one thing in common,” Merritt continued.

“Everyone in this room was a victim of the hard times that hit one of America’s most treasured cities,” Henley said, her lines flowing smoothly after Merritt’s. _A well-oiled team. All of them. I’m so proud._ But I had to start thinking of other things.

“Some of you lost your houses, your cars,” Merritt said.

“Your businesses,” Jack put in.

“Your loved ones.” I paused in my movements as Daniel said it. Then I shook myself. _Come on, Jane. Move it._ “But all of you were insured by the same company.”

“Tressler Insurance,” they all chorused together.

“Release the cables,” I said into my headset. “Gently.”

“You were abandoned.”

“You were loopholed.”

“Out of your settlements.” The crowd was starting to get angry, shouting at Tressler. _Not long now._ I made sure I had everything I needed.

“This is all for show, correct?” I heard Tressler asking over Henley’s pickup.

“‘All’ meaning we’re doing it onstage in front of a paying audience, then yes, it’s for show,” Henley said, and I didn’t have to look at my monitor to know exactly the evil smile she’d be wearing.

“Woah!” Someone shouted from the house. “I’ve got $82,000 in my bank account! It says it right here on my cell phone!” _I wondered when someone would try and check that._ I grinned. _And because we allowed recording, they all have their cellphones right there…_ “Everybody, look at your cellphones!” The guy exhorted the crowd. “Everybody!” _Of course, it won’t work for everyone - not everyone has mobile banking. But enough people do…_ The crowd turned to their phones, started murmuring. The murmurs grew louder as more and more people confirmed their balances had changed, just as planned. One mass transfer at the top of the show.

“Hey,” Tressler said, rounding on the Horsemen. “Did you did this?”

“How could we, Art?” Jack asked, smiling innocently. “We don’t have your password.” He headed upstage.

“We’d need access to information we could never get our hands on,” Henley said, following Jack. _Two down._

“Ah, yes. Security questions, for instance, like, your mother’s maiden name, or the name of your first pet.” Daniel said, as acerbically as possible. Watching the monitors, I could see the moment when Tressler connected Dan’s ‘bad cold read’ with his banking information.

“Where would we get that information, Art?” Merritt asked, even as the crowd were caterwauling, and Daniel was getting into position. _Three down. Come on, Merritt._ One last thing, and I could get the hell out of Dodge. “You certainly would never tell us.” And he headed upstage too, to his cable. _And about damn time. I’m sure the FBI are going to know what we’re up to any minute, and I know the plan calls for us to just get away, but -_

“Hey, we left you the jet and the Rolls.” That was my cue. I scampered out of my booth and into the main backstage corridor.

“Stop!” I heard a foreign voice shout from the pickups onstage. “Freeze!” _Ah, Agent Rhodes. Right on time._

“Quarterback!” the audience members that had been hypnotised shouted, and I could hear the thud of Agent Rhodes hitting the deck hard, even as I skidded around my last corner, grabbing the tech that controlled the Horsemen’s winches by the shoulder.

“We are the Four Horsemen,” they called into the crowd, which was almost not paying attention any more. “Good night!”

“Go, go go!” I told the tech, who started the winch and the Horsemen rose into the catwalk above stage. I switched to the all hands frequency.

“It’s been a blast, folks,” I said. “We’ve gotta dash, but your pay is in your accounts. Feel free to find me if it’s wrong, and we’ll settle up.”

And with that, I was running, down the corridor that led to the loading dock, pulling my black tour shirt over my head as I went - too recognisable - revealing the bright blue tank top I’d worn underneath. I skidded into the dressing room on the way, picking up my shoulder bag and Dan’s duffel, slamming the cowboy hat nearby onto my head.

Properly disguised, I sprinted out the loading dock, nearly missing the caterers, then slowed to a walk, slinging the duffel over one shoulder and Dan’s bag over the other, fishing beads out of my bag and letting my heart rate begin to calm.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. The Greyhound

I made it to the bus station before Daniel did.

I knew I would. It was in the plans that I would. And yet, I was still shifting from foot to foot, worrying. I hadn’t heard from anyone yet, nor did I expect to. Henley, Merritt, and Jack were grabbing go bags I’d stashed for them at the airport, in a rented car parked in the economy lot. They’d text me when they were at the car and headed out of the airport. Which wouldn’t be for another half hour or so.

And Dan?

I was expecting he’d have led the FBI on a merry chase, and I just hoped he knew exactly how long and how fast he could sprint. But he wasn’t due to arrive for another ten minutes. The bus didn’t leave for another twenty. So I had time before I needed to start worrying in earnest.

 _You know this is your control issues coming to bite you in the ass, right, Reeves?_ A voice asked in my head, sounding quite a lot like Merritt. _Everything’s planned, down to the last detail, but the thing you can’t control is real life. Things aren’t as easy to control when you get off stage. People aren’t as easy to control in real life._

I humphed and leaned against the shelter next to the waiting bus, putting my earbuds in out of sheer frustration and switching on some music. Dan’s duffel was at my feet, my laptop bag hanging off one shoulder. I was the very picture of normalcy, hiding under my hat, staring at my phone.

Irving Berlin crooned unexpectedly in my ear as my fingers tapped on the plexiglass. _Someone must have snagged my iPod_ , I thought idly. _Because the last thing I remember listening to was_ not _this. I think it was some Bach? I was working on timings a few nights ago, and I couldn’t sleep._

I kept the volume low enough that I could hear everything around me, didn’t close my eyes as my fingers tap, tap, tapped along as the bass meandered. I had to keep alert. In case.

One song turned into two, turned into three, and I was humming along to ‘Top Hat and Tails’ when I spotted a familiar figure. I pushed off the shelter as Dan emerged from the half-dark of an adjacent alley, suit half-mussed.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” I drawled, when we got close enough to speak normally.

“Nice hat,” Daniel smirked back, and I used my middle finger to tip the Stetson at him. He chuckled, then grabbed the hat from my head. Before I could protest, he had his arms around me, pulling me close. I stiffened for a split second, then relaxed into him, resting my forehead on his shoulder and my hands on his back. One moment of peace. Of not worrying. But it couldn’t last.

“Been waiting long?” Dan asked as he let me go, resettling the Stetson on my head gently. Our fingers brushed as I reached to help him with the effort. I shook my head, once I was sure the damn hat wouldn’t fall off.

“Ten minutes?” I guessed, then glanced at my phone. “Thirteen. We’re on schedule.” Dan nodded.

“Heard from the others?” I shook my head.

“Still early.” I grimaced. “They’ve got to get all the way to the airport. I assume you lost the Feds?”

Dan, still standing close so we could talk softly, raised an eyebrow at me. I snorted.

“That’s right, I forgot I was talking to _the_ J. Daniel Atlas.”

He actually shuffled his feet and looked away. It was my turn to quirk an eyebrow. Dan was nothing if not self-assured.

“Tickets?” he asked instead, changing the subject even as the bus driver emerged from the far side of the Greyhound.

“Just a second.” I rummaged in my bag. “Here.” I pulled out the papers, handing them over even as Dan shouldered his bag.

“Names?”

“Jenny and David Oliver,” I said, telling Dan the fake names we were travelling with this time. Dan made a face.

“Jenny.” Obviously, Dan didn’t approve of my choice in fake name.

“David,” I replied, grinning. If Dan didn’t like the names, he could pick them next time.

“You folks headed to Atlanta?” The driver asked. We nodded. “Want me to stow your bags?”

“No thanks,” Dan said, hefting his duffel. “We’ll take ‘em on the bus.”

“Traveling light?” I’d been standing half a pace behind Dan, well-prepared to let him do the talking, as he usually did. Then he fell back, putting an around my waist. _Go with it,_ I told myself firmly, relaxing into Dan as if he did this all the time, playing along. _You can deal with the emotional fallout later. Back his play._

“Don’t need much,” Dan replied easily, not noticing my surprise, or ignoring it, if he had. “Not while I’ve got her.”

I shoved him, half-grinning, even as my stomach dropped. _Why did he say that? Nobody says things like that in real life! Especially not Dan! What?!_

The bus driver chuckled. “Kids.” He shook his head. “Go ahead and climb aboard - have a good trip.”

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing Dan’s hand and half-towing him up the steps. _Enough is enough. Let’s get us on the bus before Dan proposes marriage or something equally ridiculous._

I dropped into one of the seats next to the emergency exit, sliding over to the window seat and pulling my bag onto my lap.

Dan settled his bag on the rack above our heads, then settled next to me.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, then he reached into his jacket pocket. “I forgot - here.” He fished out a box, a little velvet one. One you’d keep an engagement ring in. My stomach swooped.

“Dan,” I started, wanting to stop him before - before what, I had no idea.

As if he’d been practicing it for months, Dan flipped open the box one-handed, revealing two rings - an engagement ring and a plain wedding band. Both were platinum. The engagement ring was diamond, or something similar. My jaw dropped.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Janey,” Dan said jokingly, although I wasn’t prepared to meet his eyes, to share in the joke. “Will you be my fake-wife?”

“What?” I was still staring at the rings, glimmering at me. _This is not… Can I … I’m not sure I want this. Not if it’s fake. Or maybe I should just go along with it? Because it’s what I’ll ever get?_

“Jenny and David Oliver - the newlyweds,” Dan explained. I looked up at him, still confused. “Same last name?” Dan’s voice was getting that edge, the ‘are you _really_ not getting this’ one.

“Siblings share the same last name, Daniel,” I almost snapped.

“No one’s going to believe I’m your brother,” Dan said in the same tone. “Just… Humour me, please? Put on the rings?” He fished around in his pants pocket with his free hand. “I’ve got one for me too,” he produced a ring that matched the plain band in the box.

“Fine,” I said. _What else can I do?_ I sighed inwardly, careful to not let Dan see any of it. _I’m already conflicted as it is. This isn’t going to change things. Let’s get this over with._ My sense of humour sparked. “Do I have to put it on myself?” Dan half-smiled, although his expression wasn’t exactly what I was expecting either.

“Here,” he said, dropping his ring in my right hand. He took the engagement ring out of the box, and, carefully, slipped it onto my ring finger. I stared. _I know it’s fake. But that doesn’t stop it from feeling…_ I looked at Dan, who was staring at the ring on my hand.

“Cat got your tongue,” I teased gently. He shook his head, his hair flying in every direction before settling.

“It looks good,” he said, without looking me in the eye, grabbing the wedding ring out of the box. And then, as if we were really getting married, he took my left hand in his right, and I took his left hand in mine. I slid the ring onto Dan’s finger as he clinked the wedding ring next to the engagement ring on mine. We just sat there, like that. Unmoving. I felt caught up in the moment, and didn’t want to be the one to break it.

And then someone brushed past our seats, and we separated.

I studied the rings more closely. “Where did you get them?”

“Pawn shop in Vegas,” Dan said. “You like em?”

I smirked over at him. “You know you have good taste, Dan. Stop fishing.” I extended my left hand so we could both look at the rings. “I do. They’re beautiful.” _I wish they were real._

“Good.”

 _I’m still not sure they were necessary,_ I wanted to say, but I held my tongue even as I gave a huge yawn.

“Try and get some sleep,” Dan suggested. “We’re on this bus for nine hours.”

“You need sleep too,” I protested.

“Fine. We’ll sleep in shifts.” _Why are you being this stubborn?_ “You first.”

“Ok,” I said. “Who knew marriage would make you so bossy.” I started the joke without thinking, completing it waiting for pain. But it never came. I just grinned at Daniel, who just smirked.

“Go to sleep, wifey. I’ve got you.”

“I know.” I gave Dan my phone, in case the other Horsemen contacted us, then curled up with my head by the window. I drifted off even as the bus’ engine started up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm a sucker for the 'fake relationship' trope, even though both I and Dan are grasping at straws putting it in here. But I love it anyway.
> 
> What did you think?


	19. The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to write!!! Life... got in the way. And being blocked. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, but as I just finished this last one, no promises when...
> 
> Hope you like it!

_Janey -_

_In case things go wrong._

_But they won’t go wrong. Not if you’ve planned them. It’s funny. For someone who’s supposed to have this giant ego, I’ve always trusted your opinion more than mine._

_But just in case. Because you’re worried. Because I can see how your forehead crinkles when we talk about New York, about the stunts we want Jack to pull, the fancy driving, the thousands of things that have to work perfectly so that we all get out of this free and alive. Just in case I don’t end up coming to Central Park with you, I thought you should know._

_I’ve always liked you. No - screw that. Although it’s true. I like you. But that’s not enough, somehow. It doesn’t fit. Liking isn’t my making sure I always know where you are, whether you’re in one piece. Liking isn’t always trying to sit next to you, or opposite you, so I can see you talk, or feel you next to me. Liking isn’t thinking you’re the smartest person in the room, and the prettiest, even when you’re in a tour shirt and jeans._

_Liking isn’t me wanting to hold you when you’re sad, kiss you all the time, make you laugh. It’s not just me liking you when I say I want you. All of you._

_I love you, Jane._

_And not like a brother, either, before you try to tell me otherwise._

_I’m in love with you._

_I’m in love the way you check everything before a show three times. The way you always stand up to me - that you call me on my shit. Your red hair. The brain that’s hiding underneath that red hair. The way you always put your hair up or take it down when you’re thinking about a new trick. The fact that you’re a good enough magician to put any of us to shame, but you hide it most of the time. The way you always have a smile for everyone._

_And I’m not even sure why I’m writing this. You won’t find this, unless I’m dead or in prison, and in either case I doubt you want to see me. You deserve someone better than me, anyway. Someone kinder. Someone who doesn’t fight with your sister all the time. That’s why we keep fighting, you know. Over you. Ask her to tell you the story about the night we met - what happened after you fell asleep._

_And you love Henley. So even when I thought you might like me back, I knew you loved Henley. And I’m not going to be the asshole who makes you choose. At least I can do that much. And hell, I don’t even know if you feel the way I do. Or if you could. Sometimes I’m so sure of it that I could kiss you, and feel certain you'd kiss back. But then something happens, and I start to doubt again._

_Anyway. If it all goes to shit, I thought you ought to know._

_In the event of my death or imprisonment, you’ll be getting access to my safe deposit boxes, to all the tricks._

_I love you._

I stared at the letter, scrawled on a half-sheet of printer paper, another second before refolding it and stowing it in my front pocket. No one ever tries to pick the front pocket, especially a girl’s front pocket. Too awkward.

Just in time, as well, because just as I resettled into my seat, Dan appeared from around the corner, a coffee cup in each hand. I watched as he drew near. We’d both changed from our stage clothes - too conspicuous - me into leggings and a slouchy blazer, him into jeans and a sweater. His tux and my backstage black were both in trash cans in the Atlanta bus terminal somewhere. Now, Dan looked just like any other twenty-something grabbing coffee for himself and a friend. My heart lurched, then settled. He passed me my cup with a flourish.

“Your coffee, wife of mine,” Dan said.

“Thank you, husband of mine,” I replied, accepting the cup as Dan settled into the seat next to me.

“Any word from the others?” I nodded, fishing my phone out and unlocking it before passing it over to Dan. “Text from Merritt that they’re almost in South Carolina,” I summarised. “Henley’s driving. Poor Jack’s bored out of his mind.” Dan scrolled down, probably looking at the barrage of texts Jack had sent from his burner phone.

“‘Do I even want to know what Henley and Merritt are talking about?’” Dan read. He hummed, low in his throat. “I wouldn’t have thought…”

“What, that he’s her type?” I finished without thinking.

“What? No, not what I was thinking,” Dan said, eyes emerging from the phone and meeting mine. “That part doesn’t surprise me - he’s steady. And would put her first.” I nodded, surprised. I agreed with Dan’s assessment, but the calm, matter-of-fact way he said it confused me. It wasn’t the tone of Dan-the-former-lover. I would have thought Dan would be more… jealous. “Just that she’s actually going for it.” He met my eyes again briefly, before looking out over the airport concourse. “Emotions.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Not with my own emotions some indecipherable morass churning in my stomach, and the note I’d found in Dan’s blazer burning a hole in the pocket of my jeans. _Not that I could help finding the damn thing, though,_ I thought, grumpily. _When you wake up under someone’s tux jacket and you hear a rustling in a pocket where there shouldn’t be one, you look! And if you find a love letter addressed to yourself, well, you’d need to be a lot less curious than I am to_ not _read it!_

Not that I didn't wish I hadn't read it, now. _What am I supposed to do? Now I know how Dan feels - how he felt when he wrote that note, anyway._

“Emotions,” I agreed finally, and something in my tone made Dan's eyes dart to mine curiously.

“Everything ok?” He asked.

I nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Yeah.” More coffee. “Just need to caffeinated, I think.”

“If you want to get more sleep, you can,” Dan said.

I shook my head. “No, thanks.” _Who knows what I'd find if I woke up under your jacket again. A bloody engagement ring?_ “Besides,” I continued, “ I think you let me sleep for longer than you should have done.” I knew he had - I'd slept for at least five hours before waking up underneath his jacket, and Dan hadn't said a word about getting his own rest before Id mentioned it.

He shrugged. “I don't mind.” A half-garbled voice came over the speakers, and we both rose as we heard the beginnings of the boarding announcement.

“Ready, Mrs. Oliver?” Dan asked.

I hefted my bag onto my shoulder. “Ready, Mr. Oliver.”

“I remember when my husband and I acted like you two,” someone said behind me. I turned to find a little old lady getting laboriously to her feet. “Back when we were first married.” I froze, not sure what to do, and snuck a glance at Dan, who was looking almost as non-plussed as I was. “How long have you two been married?” The little old lady went on, heedless of our reactions.

“Almost a year,” I said, using the date we’d been recruited to the Eye when Dan didn't seem ready to say anything. “Right, love?” The endearment felt unnatural on my tongue, but not false, either. Dan stepped behind me, closer than he normally would have, close enough so I could feel the heat of his body through my shirt.

“Right,” he agreed, dropping a kiss into my hair. “We should go, sweetheart - plane’s boarding.” I nodded.

“Nice to meet you,” I told the granny, and let Dan’s hand on the small of my back usher me onto the plane. This journey was either heaven or hell. I couldn’t decide which.


	20. The Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!!
> 
> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this - I hope everyone hasn't disappeared from this story!   
> Writer's block is (mostly) gone, NaNo is over, and I'm on vacation, so I have time to write now! Hurray!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Dan looked out the window as we took off, and I, in turn, watched him. Watching his expression as we soared upwards, his fairly innocent enjoyment of flight - nothing was ever _purely_ innocent with Dan - the way the incipient lines of his forehead smoothed out, the way his lips quirked upwards in a private, real, smile - I found it all adorable. And loveable. The sun poked out of a cloud, bouncing off my engagement ring and into my eyes. I winced, bringing up my hand in reflex as I blinked the sunspots from my vision.

When my vision had cleared, my gaze fell, almost in spite of myself, onto the rings on my left hand. The diamond, or zirconia, or whatever it was, glinted gently in the half-light of the plane. _It's funny, how two pieces of metal and a precious stone completely change my hand. And the way people look at me._ I was certain I hadn’t been imagining the tolerant smiles of the women we’d passed as we’d boarded. The flight attendants giving us an extra smile, just for being obvious newlyweds… Obviously pretend newlyweds. Ones where we kept catching sight of each other’s rings and smiling, or calling each other silly pet names.

I forced my eyes away from the rings to find Dan looking at me. I raised an eyebrow, asking silently for his thoughts.

He raised his own left hand in response. “Too strange?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “It's not that,” I said, mindful of the neighbour on my other side. The guy did look caught up in whatever game he was playing on his phone, earphones and all, but safe was better than sorry. “I'm just not… used to it.” I looked at Dan’s hand. “You?”

He glanced down, then shook his head. “I like it,” he said simply. I nodded. I couldn't say anything, not around the sudden lump in my throat.

Perhaps it was his simple statement that lent me the courage to say what I said next, or perhaps I was simply sleep-deprived, or too worried about the next Horsemen trick to think clearly. Or perhaps I was, simply, in that moment, brave.

“Dan?” I reached into my front pocket as I spoke, pulling out the note. “I found something in your jacket,” I said. He went very still, just for a moment, before settling again, more cautiously than before. I offered him the piece of paper. “It crinkled,” I said by way of explanation.

“I don't need to ask if you read it,” Dan said in a monotone, accepting the note. “ Do I?”

I shook my head. “I’d say I'm sorry, but…” I ran out of words, so I restarted. “Was it - is it …” I searched for the right question. “Did you mean it - what you wrote?” I could barely breathe, waiting for him to speak. It felt as if I was suspended on a cliff face, waiting for his answer. It was going to hurt, if he said no. It was going to hurt a lot.

Dan turned his head from where he'd been staring at the seat in front of him. His eyes found mine, catching and holding for an endless second, and then-

“Yes.”

“Yes?” I breathed, not quite able - but Dan was speaking again.

“You don't have to remember it - you can forget it - you were only ever meant to see it if-”

“Dan,” I broke in, cutting him off for once. He wasn't looking at me any more. Heart pounding, I covered his left hand with mine, our rings clinking together. His eyes flashed to mine, then away.

“What if I don't want to forget?” I asked softly. “What if,” I almost paused, but continued, because I knew if I didn't say this now, with the odds in my favour like this, I never would. “What if I feel the same?”

“Jane?” Dan’s fingers curled around mine on the arm-rest as he shifted to face me. His eyes were wide, searching mine. I waited for the question, for the comment, and I realised that for once, Dan was speechless.

I had to smile. “You goof.” I squeezed his fingers. “Of course I do.” He was still staring at me, jaw hanging slightly open. I used my free hand to shut it, gently. “You were imitating a codfish,” I told him. “And I've been gone on you since I was seventeen.”

“You have?”

“You didn't notice?” I half-chuckled. “I thought I was so obvious. Christ.” I remembered something. “So tell me. What did happen with Henley that first night?”

“That night,” Dan said. He brought our joined hands to his face, kissed my fingers. My brain short-circuited. “What do you remember?”

“I remember falling asleep on the couch ,” I said, when I'd regained the power of speech. Everything seemed so… dream-like. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? This wasn’t my real life. “And waking up in the bed the next morning.”

“You know I thought you were older, when we first met,” Dan began. He still hadn't let go of my hand, and was turning our linked hands back and forth, idly, making our rings glint in the overhead lighting. “So I flirted.”

“You what?” I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.

“And then Henley said you were underage, if only just. And I was going to wait. Willing to wait, for you. Because there was something - I don't ever talk to anyone about work” about _magic,_ but he couldn’t say that, not in a crowded plane, “the way I do with you. And then Henley said she'd walk if I made a move on you. And she’d take you with her.” Dan grimaced in memory. “Because she'd heard the rumours. Ladies man. Serial one night stand. And I figured it had to just be sparks, just some figment of my imagination, my attraction to you. And I wasn't about to throw out what could be a decent working relationship for something I had no idea was real or fake.” I nodded. It made sense.

“Except that those feelings were real,” Dan continued, staring at the seat in front of him, but not really seeing it. “I kept liking you. Looking out for you. Talking with you. And every day, I felt Henley’s eyes on me. And what was worse, she was probably right, back then.”

“Dan, no-” I protested.

“I was an asshole,” Dan said. “Still am, really. Hell, I even tried kissing Henley once, just to make sure it wasn't just transference I was feeling.”

I retrieved my hand. “I know,” I said, feeling suddenly cold. I could still feel the blue lights on my face, the concrete wall I’d half-hidden behind when I’d seen them…

The smile that had been playing around Dan's face disappeared just as suddenly, and he looked very serious. “You - of course. Of course you did. That's - that's why you started calling me Daniel,” he said. He folded his hands together, steepling them over his chest.

“There wasn't any point nursing a crush when you and my sister were together,” I said glumly. “I figured being your friend was for the best.”

Dan looked frustrated. “And all that kiss proved was that neither Henley nor I liked each other that way,” he grumbled. We lapsed into silence until Dan took my hand again. I looked at him.

“So you aren’t in love with Henley?” I asked.

Dan shook his head. “Never have been, never will be.” He smirked. “Only one Reeves sister for me.”

“Oh.” It was all I could manage. Dan's free hand slipped onto my shoulder, skimming up and over my collarbones, until his palm was cradling face.

“Excuse me?” My other neighbour patted my shoulder, and I jumped. The flight attendant was there, wearing a half-annoyed, half-amused smirk.

“Anything to drink?” she asked.

I ducked my head apologetically, then nodded. “Yes, please,” I said. “Could I have coffee, please? Cream and sugar?” I glanced at Dan, who nodded. “And the same for the husband, please,” I added, not quite able to stop my silly grin at Dan’s fake title. Judging by the way his hand tightened over mine, he didn't seem to mind the title either. The flight attendant’s smile turned more genuine.

“Coming right up,” she said, turning to her cart to begin assembling the beverages. Dan let go of my left hand so I could accept the beverages, lowering his tray table as I turned as if we’d been traveling together for years.

Which in a way, we had. We’d just had a few years break.

“Thank you,” I told the lady as she handed over first one cup of coffee, then the other.

“Have a good flight,” she said, far more tolerantly than I’d given her credit for, and moved the cart onwards to her next customers.

Dan was already busy doctoring a cup of coffee with cream. I watched in silence as he dropped creamer in, then shook the sugar packets before dropping their contents into the now lightened liquid.

 _What we really need now,_ I reflected, _Is about three hours just by ourselves to deal with this. But we’re not going to get it._

“For you,” Dan said, offering me the first cup of coffee. I stared at him for a minute, before accepting carefully - the cup was rather full. Dan never offered anyone else the first cup of coffee. Ever.

“Thanks,” I said, as if this kind of thing happened all the time.

Dan was already adding creamer to his coffee.

“Anything for you, wifey.” I wanted to shove him with my elbow, but resisted the urge. There was coffee in the balance, after all, both his and mine.

 


	21. Bits and Pieces

Two predictably awful cups of coffee later, and my neighbour had gone back to his earbuds and iPad.

“So,” I said, tucking the empty cups into the seatback pocket.

Dan turned his attention from the window and back to me, and I forgot what I’d been meaning to say. His eyes met mine, and I got lost in them. In the fact that he was smiling at me - not the big fake one he used onstage, but the small private one, the one which made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“So?” I closed my eyes, shook my head minutely, and opened my eyes again. Nope, Dan was still there. Still smiling gently at me.

“We should….” I started, then stopped as Dan shifted. He pushed the armrest between our seats up, then put his arm around me, pulling me closer. “Oh.” My hands had shot out as he’d moved me, both of them tangling in his shirt.

“Is this ok? Too fast?” Dan’s forehead started to wrinkle, and I shook my head with a small smile of my own. I shifted in my own seat, leaning into him.

“’S been a long time coming,” I said, letting my head fall gently against his.

“No kidding.” Dan huffed a laugh. He turned his head underneath mine, and I froze as I felt the brush of his lips against my cheekbone. He paused, breath almost cool against my overheated cheek. “You still ok?”

“Yeah.” I turned my head so I was looking at him, stunned to find myself so close to him. I’d never been this close to him before. “Your eyes are grey,” I said.

“What?” One of my hands was on his cheek, tilting his head so I could see his eyes.

“I never noticed before - how didn’t I notice? Your eyes - they’re not blue, not really. They’re grey.” I was so caught up in looking at Dan’s eyes that his lips brushing mine was a surprise.

“And yours are green,” Dan said, smirking at me. “I knew that.”

I smacked his shoulder lightly. “Dan.”

The smirk turned into a real smile. “Yes?”

“Kiss me again.”

“Anytime,” and he leaned in and covered his lips with mine.

::::::::

“They’re in Jersey somewhere,” I reported, locking my phone and slipping it into my front pocket as I stood.

“I send my condolences,” Dan snarked, half-rising as much as he could, given the bulkhead of the plane.

I grinned at him, and he snaked an arm around me, pulling me in for a half-hug. I leaned into him, my arm sliding up and my hand hooking over his far shoulder. The motion was familiar - it was something we’d been doing for years. The way I turned my face into the space between his shoulder and neck, though, the way Dan bent his head to give me a quick peck on the temple, that was all new.

I looked up the scant inches into Dan’s face.

“Problems?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Not that,” I demurred. “Just…” I took a quick breath. “Are you sure, Dan? About this?” I tightened my grip on him for a second, letting him know what _this_ was.

Dan frowned, then bent his head to trail a kiss along my cheekbone. And then another. And another. Until I was motionless in the curve of his shoulder, eyes closed. I couldn’t… I couldn’t _concentrate_ , when he was kissing me like that.

“I’ve been waiting for this for years, Janey. _Wanting_ you. For years. ” Dan said, whispering into my ear. “If I finally get the chance - if you feel even a little bit the same -“ he paused. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“I do,” I said, even as the line to exit the plane began to move. “Feel the same.” I flashed my ring at him. “Dolt.”

Dan grinned.

 

::::::::::::

 

“Have a good trip?” I asked, helping Jack unload the bags from the back of the rental car.

He groaned. “Never again.” I chuckled.

“What’s wrong?”

“If they weren’t flirting, they were arguing. It’s like you and Dan. Except with ten times the squabbling and double the UST.”

“Repeat that.”

“Henley and Merritt are like you and Dan. Except that they argue more. And spend the rest of their time eye-fucking.”

“Jack Wilder!” I wasn’t usually easily scandalised. But this was Henley - my _sister!_ There were some things I definitely did not want to hear. Ever.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “But it’s true! They spent an hour arguing about which state was the beginning of the true Deep South. And then -“

“You can stop now, Jack,” Merritt said, coming over and taking one of the suitcases himself. He went to lift the thing up the stairs, then looked at me. Then away, then looked at me again.

I felt myself beginning to flush, and pushed past Merritt to lift my own suitcase up the stairs.

“Nice ring,” Merritt called behind me, and I cursed inwardly. I glanced down and saw the engagement ring and wedding ring still on my finger. I’d forgotten, deliberately or not, to take the damn things off.

“Janey - let me-“ Dan said, halfway down the next flight of stairs. I looked up at him, still annoyed by Merritt.

“I got it,” I said. “You go down - grab the last case.” Dan looked surprised, then nodded, brushing past me, closer than he would have done a few days ago. I took the opportunity to whisper in his ear. “And then we face the Inquisition - Merritt noticed.”

Dan chuckled and stopped me with a hand on my elbow. “We’ll be fine,” he promised me, kissing me quickly before brushing past on his way down the stairs. My stomach flipped, and I stared after him until I saw Merritt’s fedora approaching from the lower landing. I lifted the suitcase with a grunt, and continued schlepping it up to the apartment.

It wasn’t until I reached the door that I realised I had a smile on my face.


	22. The Confession, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane tells Henley. It... doesn't go well.

“Henley,” I called, dropping the suitcase in the living room. 

“Kitchen,” her voice echoed through the flat. 

“Can I talk to you a minute?” I asked, even as I reached the kitchen to find Henley pulling out the coffeemaker. “You’re a lifesaver - airplane coffee is awful.”

“Anything for my baby sister,” Henley said, and my stomach flipped once, twice. 

“Hens…” Henley put down the coffee and turned. 

“What’s up?” She looked me up and down, and I stood there, waiting to see if she’d see what Merritt had. 

“I need to tell you,” I began. 

“The rings,” Henley broke in.

“I don’t want you to be mad - or disappointed in me, or something,” I started to babble, and Henley shut me up by putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Janey.” She looked up at me. “I’m not disappointed in you. Or mad. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly,” I said, wanting to shy away from her. It was strange. I could tell Henley everything. Had told Henley everything. Except for my feelings for Dan. But now we were together, and there wasn’t going to be any hiding it… I was terrified. 

“I love Dan, and he loves me,” I said, and waited.

“What.” Henley’s expression grew very cold.

“You heard.” My chin went up, and I faced her head on. It didn’t matter whether or not she was shorter than I was. I still felt like I was facing a monolith. “Dan and I finally got our heads out of our respective asses.” I looked at my hands, felt the bubble of happiness spread from my midsection at the sight of the engagement ring blinking in the fluorescent bulbs. 

“Jane - oh, Janey,” Henley said, stepping closer, gripping my shoulders tight and staring up into my face. “Whatever he’s told you, whatever he promised - he’s lying. You know him! He’s an asshole, he says awful things to me all the time- he’s a bad person! He’s a smart-ass - he always thinks he’s the smartest one in the room, always thinks he’s right, even when he’s not. He’s rude, and self-centred, and don’t even get me started on his dating habits - you know he has more one-night stands than real relationships - if he ever has those at all! What are you thinking?”

I stood for a few seconds, absorbing the onslaught, half in shock, half in resignation. I had known it wouldn’t go well. This was worse than I’d hoped. 

“Are you quite finished?” I asked, standing up straight and in so doing pulling her hands off my shoulders. 

“Jane -“ Henley began, more hesitantly, but I talked over her.

“No, you’ve had your say, now it’s my turn.” I glared at my sister. “Yes, you were right. Four years ago. He admits it himself.” I shook my head. “But if you think any of us are the people we were four years ago, you’re kidding yourself. I know I’m a different person, and you are too.” I could sense someone, possibly several someones, behind me, but I kept going. “I’ve worked - we’ve all worked - with Dan for the past year. We’d know if he was still flirting with everything that moved. He’s not. He stays late. He helps. He’s always got my back. Hell, even the two of you get on more often than not!”

“And how dare you act this way anyway? I come to you to share something I’m happy about, to tell my sister, whom I love dearly, that I’ve fallen in love, and you don’t even stop to think - you just react, you just lash out. I was under the impression I was an adult, and could make my own decisions.”

I moved closer again, grabbing Henley’s hands this time. “And more than that, Hens, I meant it when I said I loved him.” I squeezed her hands in mine, felt the rings on my left hand, and smiled. “I love him, Hens. I have for a long time, and he loves me too. Sure, it could end in horrible failure.” My stomach flipped again, but this time I ignored it. “It could, but I’ll try anyway. I truly believe he’s a good man. And because what if? What if it doesn’t end badly? What if we end up happy? Don’t we deserve that?”

I waited, to see what Henley would do. 

She pulled her hands from mine. “You do, Janey,” she said tiredly. “Of course you deserve to be happy.” She turned back to the coffee. “I just don’t like him, and I don’t trust him. Especially not with you.” 

That was all I was going to get, apparently. 

“Well, I do.” I turned, heart in my throat, and saw the person I’d sensed behind me.

Dan stood in the door, hands in his pockets.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing his elbow and tugging him back into the living room. “She’ll come around. I hope.”

I could tell Dan wanted to talk to me as I dragged him in front of Merritt and Jack. But I wanted to get this over with. Unless…

A thought suddenly made me freeze. 

“Jane?” Dan’s arm shifted so he grabbed my hand. “Are you ok?”

“I told her,” I said, shocked. 

“I heard,” Dan’s smirk was half-fond, half-bitter. “That could have gone better.”

I shook my head. “That’s not - I didn’t ask - I just assumed we’d tell the others - I’m sorry-“ Dan bent his head and kissed me quiet. 

“It’s all right,” he said, and I realised I’d ended up in his arms again, hands on his chest. “I know you can’t keep anything from your sister.” I thunked my head into his collarbone, and I could feel his chuckle as much as hear it. 

“I was kind of hoping for some iota of acceptance,” I murmured.

Dan just tightened his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

I pulled away so I could look up into his face. “Don’t you dare be sorry,” I said, not shouting, but fiercely all the same. “It’s not your fault she can’t see you’ve changed. Besides,” my lips twitched in a bitter smile. “She’s not the one you’re dating.”

Dan grinned and pressed a kiss to my temple. “No, she’s not,” he said.

“Well, well, well,” Merritt said, and I jumped, pulling away from Dan. 

He, however, didn’t let me go very far, keeping my hand as we faced Merritt. And Jack, who dropped his suitcase next to the one I’d abandoned. 

“Hey, you guys got together! Congrats!” he said, then, with absolutely no ceremony, pulled out the suitcase’s handle and began to wheel it to his room.

I just stared after him. That was… unexpected.

“I take it telling Henley didn’t go well,” Merritt said, and my attention snapped back to him. 

“You can’t tell?” Dan snarked, and I poked him. “Ow!”

“Don’t look at me like that, Atlas, you know what you did,” I said, sagely, then went to slump onto the couch. “And to answer your question, no. It didn’t. She called Dan some nasty names, implied I was incompetent, and I tried to disabuse her of both notions. Feel free to persuade her, or not.” I kicked off my shoes and curled my feet underneath me. “I’m just glad we don’t have anything urgent that we need to get done today.”

Even as I said it, my thoughts started spiralling. What if Henley didn’t come around? What if I lost her forever? What if I had to choose between her and Dan? I loved them both - so much - could I choose? What if we were at odds during the last trick and that lead to one of us screwing it all up and landing us in jail? This could go so badly wrong in so many ways, and I hadn’t even begun to properly think about all of them yet.

I hadn’t realised I was staring out into space until the jostling of the couch that meant someone had joined me made me look up.

Dan was there, grabbing one of my hands in both of his. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Henley’ll come around.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Because I wasn’t. Not at all. Dan pulled me up enough so he could put his arms around me. 

“I will find some way to get along with your sister,” he promised. “I swear. You love her. So we’ll manage to get along. I’m not gonna make you choose.”

“Good.” I held him tight and pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing up. The room was empty. “Where’d Merritt go?”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “To talk to Henley.”

“Oh goody.” I sighed. “Well, let’s get this stuff unpacked,” I said. “We’ve got work to do.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.... what do you guys think? 
> 
> as always, come say hi on tumblr - stonegirl77.tumblr.com!


	23. The Broken Plate

You didn’t need to eavesdrop to hear Merritt and Henley in the kitchen.

I could hear them, even as safely ensconced as I was in one of the bedrooms - the one I shared with Henley - putting the few things from my go bag back in the room. Not that we’d be using this room much any more. Or this flat.

I winced as I heard Henley shouting, voice growing higher in pitch.

If we couldn’t settle this, _fast,_ I was pulling the plug. And we had to settle it properly. No half measures, no getting through it for the team. There was way too much that could go wrong, both in terms of us landing in jail and becoming roadkill somewhere. And I wasn’t about to let that happen. There were more important things than getting into the Eye.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I reached the bottom of the bag. _Time to go talk with Henley. Again._

I’d thought everything was fine. Dan and I had had our moment in the living room, then separated to do our various chores, leaving Henley and Merritt to talk in the kitchen. Until fifteen minutes ago, when I’d started to hear them from the laundry room. Now I could hear bits and pieces.

“-Dare you!” Henley was shouting. “Raised her!” I shook my head as I left the room. This really wasn’t going well. I ran into Jack, standing in the hall, clearly listening in.

“So if Dan and I are Mom and Dad,” I asked, trying to lighten the mood, “who are Henley and Merritt?”

Dan’s head jerked and he looked at me, surprised. He frowned, then, “Crazy aunt and uncle, I guess,” he replied.

“I’m gonna try and fix it,” I told him. The poor kid was worried, I could tell. The set of his jaw, the way he was barely not clenching it, the furrow in his brow that made his forehead wrinkle. “And if I don’t, we’re calling it.” Jack’s jaw dropped. “It’s too dangerous - for us all, and mostly you -“ I shoved his shoulder, gently, “if we’re not all a united front.” I heard a plate shatter. “And we’re clearly not, right now.”

I moved past Jack without waiting to hear his response, striding into the hallway and hauling open the kitchen door.

Henley was sat on the counter, Merritt hunting underneath the sink, shards of a plate strewn onto the floor. At least the plate had dropped, not been thrown, as I’d halfway feared.

“The dustpan and brush are in the cabinet to your right,” I said dryly. Merritt jerked, and I heard the dull thud of his head hitting part of the cabinets.

He swore.

I crouched down next to him, grabbing the required items out of the cabinet and moving over to clean up the mess. Henley’s bare feet swung gently next to me.

“Have you calmed down?” I asked her, glancing up. She hit my shoulder with one of her feet, but gently.

“Finish cleaning up,” she said, instead of answering. “I’d help, but Mr. Overprotective here doesn’t want me cutting my feet.”

“Merritt’s right,” I said. “Either don’t drop dishes, or wear shoes. Especially in this place - it’s a tetanus outbreak waiting to happen.”

“Overprotective,” Henley said, and I half-smiled. If she was already back to teasing me, or at least, Merritt, things couldn’t be so bad.

Merritt had emerged from the cupboard and presented his pate for Henley’s inspection by the time I was done with the plate bits.

“So,” I said. “Care to share what’s going on?” I felt a smirk playing about on my face as Henley’s fingers traced the non-existent bump.

“He kissed me,” Henley said, releasing Merritt and lowering herself from the counter. “I dropped the plate in surprise.”

“You were screaming at him, and he, what, kissed you to shut you up?” I asked. I hadn’t meant the question to come out quite so sardonically, but my filter was sadly lacking. I blamed sleep deprivation.

“That, and I just wanted to kiss her,” Merritt said, grinning at Henley, who smiled back. Gently. Henley smiled sweetly at Merritt.

My brain jogged, then reset.

“Besides,” Merritt continued, blithely. “It proved my point nicely.”

“Moving on from the mental image of your tongue down my sister’s throat,” I said, and held up a hand to stall Merritt before he said something I’d never be able to forget, “care to share your point?”

“Love makes fools of us all,” Henley said, and I glanced at her, but she was looking at Merritt, who looked down at her, face softening more than I had ever seen. “And people change.”

_Awwwww._

“You’ll let me know if I need an insulin prescription, right?” I asked lightly, not asking the question I really wanted to ask. _Are we good? Are you done being mad with me? And Dan, which is almost the same thing? Can I have my big sister back?_ I really hated having her angry with me.

Henley just came and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me down so my head rested on her shoulder.

“If that lug can sweep me off my feet, I guess I can allow you to love Danny,” she said, and I chuckled, once. To my shock, it came out as more of a sob, and I stopped myself before I started crying. As a trade, I hugged Henley tight. “I still don’t like him,” she continued, “But if he treats you right, we’ll get along.” Left unspoken was the threat of what she’d do if Dan ever hurt me. But I supposed that was fair.

I just pressed my face into her sweater and squeezed her tight once more before letting her go.

“I love you, big sis,” I told her.

“I love you too, gigantor,” she replied, and I turned to Merritt, squaring my shoulders.

“I don’t need to give you a shovel talk, do I?” Henley made a noise of protest, but I ignored her.

Merritt grinned at me. “I think we all know what happens to someone who hurts Henley,” he told me, then sobered. “And if I hurt her, I’ll give myself up.”

“Good man.” I patted him on the shoulder.

“Now - let’s get this place set - tomorrow’s show time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies,   
> So I'm going to try and post once a week, on Thursdays. Hopefully it works!
> 
> As always, feel free to come and bug me on tumblr - I'd love to see you!


	24. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horseman make a video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late - travel, and auditions, and a cold all waylaid me this week. But here's the latest chapter, hope you enjoy!

The next day and a half sped past in a flurry of picking up rentals, checking everything five times, and getting ready.   
Then, it was dinner time. Jack was sending cards flying across the apartment, drawing designs in the wall opposite. When he wasn’t practicing, he was tense, fingers drumming on a knee that bounced up and down.   
Merritt had spent the morning with Henley going over the warehouse. I’d joined them at noon, after picking up one of the rental cars. Dan followed shortly after, in the bus.   
And when Jack arrived, we started recording the video.   
“Get lost, kid,” Merritt said, not unkindly.   
“Just to the next room,” I said, feeling suddenly very tired. “So we can’t see you. We’ll call you once we’re done.”  
Jack nodded, then shot me a grin. “You know I’m not gonna die, right?”   
I gave him my best smile in return, but there was something false about it. I was still worried. There were so many things that could go wrong.   
“He’ll be fine,” Dan said from beside me, putting his hand briefly on my shoulder. He spoke low, into my ear, so no one else could hear me. “And you’ll be magnificent.”  
Trust him to know exactly what was going through my head, I thought wryly.   
“Ok,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this. Jack?”  
“I’m out, I’m out,” he said, hands up, walking backwards out of the room.   
“We’ll see you in a few minutes,” I said, more for myself than for anyone else. “Everyone ready?” I glanced over at Henley and Merritt. They nodded, and Henley leaned over to grab my hands out of my lap.   
“You’re gonna be great,” she told me. “Let’s face it - you could have been doing this for years. It’s your turn in the spotlight. Time for you to shine, Star.”  
“Is that nickname going to follow me forever?” I groused, getting up and heading for the camera. I pushed record, then moved back to the couch, sitting back in my seat wedged securely between Henley and Dan.   
I clapped my hands once, to set the take, then nodded at Dan.  
“Hi.  
“We’re coming to you today,” he started, then stopped, and restarted, leaning forward and steepling his hands together. “Today something awful happened.   
“Jack Wilder, one of the Four Horsemen, our friend, our brother in arms, died.” Even though I knew Jack was just in the other room, even though I knew I could walk twenty steps and wrap my arms around him, I still took in a breath, as if the news hurt. Because the news would hurt. If it were real.   
“I’m sure the police will have the full story,” Dan continued, still looking up at the camera. “But the way he died…” he broke off again, and I reached over to cover his entwined hands with one of mine.  
“He died trying to evade police,” I said, almost glaring at the camera. “And he will be missed.” I swallowed hard, tried again. “Dearly missed.”  
Dan’s fingers grabbed mine, squeezed gently.   
“More than anything in his life,” he said, grabbing the thread of the conversation again, “Jack wanted to be the most famous magician who ever lived. I’m not saying he achieved it,” I shoved Dan, gently, “but I hope that, wherever he is, is full of magic.  
“But the point is…” Dan’s throat worked. He tried again. “The point is…”  
Merritt stepped in. “Why we are here,” he said, “is to say the we are not, we can not, quit.” We all nodded. “We’ve started something bigger than all of us, and we have to finish it.”  
Henley nodded again, the spoke up. “And to finish what we started, for the Horsemen, we’re bringing in someone new. Well… not new exactly.” She looked over at me and grinned briefly. “I’ve known her my whole life.”  
“I’d like to introduce my sister, Jane Reeves. The fifth Horseman. You’ve seen her work if you’ve seen our shows - she’s the woman behind the curtain - the brains of the operation, and she has offered to step up and help us with our final trick. Janey?”  
I took a deep breath.   
“Hi, everyone, I’m Jane.” I felt Dan giving my fingers another squeeze, and found the courage, from somewhere deep in my gut, to go on. “I don’t claim to be as good a card shark as Jack.” My throat worked, and I was stunned to feel a tear streaking its way down my cheek. I brushed it away. “Jack is - was - damn good. But I’m going to do my best to be the best Horseman I can be. And I hope you come to our final show. We’ll show you where when it’s time.”  
“For Jack.”  
The others echoed.   
“For Jack.”  
We sat there, in silence, and then I stood, disengaging my hands from Dan’s and moving to stop the recorder.   
No one said a word.   
Jack’s footsteps moved to the doorway, where he stood, waiting for us to give him the all clear to come back in again.   
I stared at him. At the boy - almost a man - who had become the closest thing I had to a little brother.   
“We are going to do everything in our power to make that video fake,” I said, voice ringing over-loud in the concrete room. “Got it?”


End file.
